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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27049579">Yours to Inherit</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/McAlli/pseuds/McAlli'>McAlli</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hollow Knight (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Basically all the characters show up at one point or another for various amounts of time, Fix-It, Gen, Godseeker Ending, Hornet was made for being the eldest sibling, I have to justify as much as possible that's just the kind of writer I am, I needed a fix-it fic and I needed to make it myself, Inspired by other authors on Ao3, Lots of personal headcanons afoot, Nailsmith and Sheo are a thing, No Character Death, No Smut, canon divergence but keeping with canon rules, no proofreaders we die like men, well some characters are dead but no one gets murdered I mean</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:54:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>36,907</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27049579</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/McAlli/pseuds/McAlli</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Hollow Knight wakes on the floor of their prison, freed from their bindings. Something has eliminated the Infection despite the seals remaining unbroken. Leaving their destiny behind, they join Hornet on a journey to discover how their home has been freed from the Dream Plague. </p><p>The answers have roots deep within the history of the land that became Hallownest, and as they search for their missing sibling, Hornet and Hollow uncover far more than they ever expected.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>DerangedDeceiver's Favorite Fics</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Dream No More</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24833446">Shade and Shell</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/xensilverquill/pseuds/xensilverquill">xensilverquill</a>.
        </li>
        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25297246">Threadcutter</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourierNew/pseuds/CourierNew">CourierNew</a>.
        </li>

    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>From beneath a thick bed of chitin and tattered wings, a small hand emerged. It was unimpressive, its black casing still soft and a little damp, fingers short and almost pudgy. It grasped blindly until it latched onto something and after an experimental tug, the hand pulled the body it was attached to from its hiding place. Second to break the surface of the refuse were a pair of smooth, slightly curved horns with tiny dents at their ends. The head they were anchored to followed — softly rounded with large eye sockets, incredibly pale above its pitch black body and thin, sticky grey wings. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The small creature blinked against the pitch black around them, carefully swiveling this way and that. There was nothing to see. The darkness was deep, but they could tell how vast the space around them was, stretching around them and up, further up. They carefully got to their feet, balance unsteady for a moment against the uneven floor. The floor covered in faces and shells that didn’t look too different from their own. They reached down curiously, stroking tiny fingers along one of the broken carapaces in some measure of wonder and confusion, before a sound behind them startled them.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Spinning quickly, they realized the hollow thud had come from only a short distance away. They carefully stepped over, blinking more harshly as their eyes slowly adjusted to the lack of light, and found themself staring down at another broken face. There was black leaking from the eyes and the body was still trembling from the impact. They waited, one hand braced against the cheek of the creature that looked so much like them, until that trembling stopped. The discordant chitter of their life force fizzled out. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>After another few moments, they looked up. Far, far above was a speck of light, bright and pale. It stung their eyes and they squinted a little. Curiosity rising, they began to look for a way up. The climb was not going to be easy, especially with their carapace still soft and their wings still damp, but they began nonetheless…even as more of those strangers with familiar faces plummeted down into the dark depths around them.</em>
</p>
<p> </p><hr/>
<p>They woke on the cold void-stone floor. </p>
<p>For a few long moments, they wondered if something had gone wrong. They had been struggling to hold the Festerglow inside them one moment and then the next they were in a collapsed heap of fabric and chains. They couldn’t feel the hot, pulsing hatred of the dream-plague pressing at the inside of their shell. It was empty now in a way it hadn’t been for what seemed like eons. </p>
<p>The Hollow Knight managed to twist their body, forcing themself onto their back so that they could shove away the chains now loosely circling them. They were heavy, and their body shook with the effort. Once they had inched their way free of the chains they began to peel away the armor that had encased their natural shell since the day they’d been brought to the Temple of the Black Egg. Soon they was bare of the extras and the bindings and they could flutter wings sore from years of lack of use. They used their right hand to explore their left shoulder. The old injury felt much the same as it always had, the socket from which their left arm had once attached closed over with chitin newer than the rest of what encased their body, no longer soft but not quite the same texture as the rest. </p>
<p>The Hollow Knight then closed their eyes and, with increasing care, lifted that hand to their shell. Long, nimble fingers explored the space between their eyes, traced along the ridge of their right eye socket where the chitin was split. The edges were clean, almost sharp, and they followed the line as it traveled up between their horns where it forked into two and curved around the back. Luckily the crack didn’t meet itself and result in a missing piece. The inside of their shell seemed to itch and tingle but there was no reasonable or safe way to relieve that sensation.</p>
<p>They let out a shaky breath and grabbed onto the only thing they would take with him — their nail, slightly degraded from lack of care but still sturdy and sharp. The weight of it was familiar and comforting in their hand as they speared it into the floor as an anchor to heave themself to their feet. They were unsteady for a moment, the darkness spinning and tipping around them. After so long containing the Light-that-Hates inside their body, the lack of it felt incredibly weakening and disorienting. It had been so long since their body had been their own that it took him a while to remember what it felt like to inhabit it. </p>
<p>The Hollow Knight took a few staggering steps until they found their footing and then, clenching their nail tightly against their side, they started towards the exit. The great Black Egg was a massive structure and the magics that had held them in place still hummed softly around them as they followed the single hallway from the binding chamber. It was strange…the magics were still alive with energy but they held no power over them now, not without the Infection contained within them. The seals lit and glowed as they passed them, elegant curves and careful shapes so bright against the void dark stone. </p>
<p>The dim light that was spilling into the Temple from the opened doorway was almost too much. The Hollow Knight blinked and squinted against it as they approached the exit, anxiety and excitement all twisted together in a knot of emotions they struggled to process. The light itself was a comfort, but beyond that was the scent of fresh air — damp and earthy but still clean from the surface, the ever present tang of the chalky sands that drifted into the Crossroads from the Howling Cliffs to the west. They wanted to hurry but their body made it clear to them that it wasn’t going to let them, and once they finally stepped out of the Temple of the Black Egg, they were glad they hadn’t rushed out.</p>
<p>Standing on the threshold of the Temple was a single slim figure, body draped in a red cloak, pale white shell curved upwards into two strong, sleek horns. At the sound of their footsteps, the figure turned to face them— a needle clenched tightly in their hand and the flash of its thread spilling out behind them. </p>
<p>The Hollow Knight barely had the time to get their nail up before the needle crashed against it with a loud clang of metal against metal. The stranger peered at them in a mixture of distrust and disbelief, shiny black eyes boring into their own. Their training kicked in and they shoved her back, flipping their nail in their grasp so that the length pressed against their forearm. They had learned many ways to wield a nail but backwards strikes had always suited them more than the standard posture. </p>
<p>They tensed, waiting for her next move. They deflected it when it came, managing to sidestep the rapid throw of the needle and protect their left side from its finely honed edge. The whistle of its return forced them off the stoop of the Temple and into the overgrown path that stretched before it, the weapon missed them by near inches as the stranger yanked it back into her hand by the thread looped into its eye. </p>
<p>“…no trace of the Festerglow in your eyes,” the stranger said, her voice high and clear but clouded with confusion. “You bear resemblance to the Hollow Knight, but you cannot be.” </p>
<p>Her eyes darted away from them, to the vines that had grown on the ceilings of the Temple. They were inky black now but the fading light of Infection was shuddering out of them like puffs of sulfuric smoke. </p>
<p>The Hollow Knight promptly stabbed their nail into the earth. They watched the stranger tense and ready her weapon as they brought their hand to their chest. They patted themself, then gestured, fingers clumsy around signs that hadn’t been practiced in years. They didn’t even know if the stranger would understand the old Hallownest sign language but they had to try. </p>
<p>“<em>I am. I am the Hollow Knight. Once the Pure Vessel. Chosen to seal the Infection, now I am free.”</em></p>
<p>The stranger stared at them, her eyes flicking to them, the dying vines, the opened entrance to the Black Egg. She focused on them for a long moment, staring into eyes that were just as deep and black and clear as her own…and then she returned her needle to its holster on her back. She let out a long sigh.</p>
<p>“I admit, I’m rusty with those old hand signs. No one has used them with me in a long time.” She strode towards them, extremely sure-footed and steady. “I didn’t catch all of that, but I think I got enough. Do you have any idea how you are free?”</p>
<p>The Hollow Knight shook their head. The action made them dizzy and they grasped at their nail to ground himself, letting out a startled wheeze. The stranger put out a hand as if to help but thought better of it.</p>
<p>“My name is Hornet.” She said, “Were you given a name, Vessel?” </p>
<p>Again, they shook their head, releasing their anchor carefully to sign. They were slower this time, both for her benefit and from their own unsteadiness. </p>
<p>“<em>I was given a title only.”</em></p>
<p>“That won’t do.” Hornet said, tapping the knuckle of her forefinger against her mouth. “Hm. This may seem a bit on the nose, but may I call you ‘Hollow’?”</p>
<p>Hollow blinked at her, perhaps not understanding the need, but they nodded slowly nonetheless. </p>
<p>“Excellent. Now. It seems that you are struggling to keep upright, and we have much to discuss. There is nothing for you here anymore, no duty, no prison. Above us is the town of Dirtmouth, a safe enough place to rest. Come. You’ll need my help getting up out of the well.” </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Firstly: This fic is 100% inspired by Shade and Shell by xensilverquill. Hop over to their fic and check it out if you haven't already. They served me delicious mashed potatoes and I stole their recipe and drowned it in gravy, bacon bits, and cheese. Threadcutter by CourierNew also played a part, check that one out too, the wordsmithy is to die for.</p><p>Basically, I had a concept for a fix-it fic, felt kind of embarrassed about wanting to read it, and then got that extra push to write and post this from xensilverquill.</p><p>This is my first fic posted on my Ao3 but it's not the first fic I've written. The whole fic is plotted, and I'm going to run on a policy of "next chapter finished before previous posted", but I'm not going to run on any specific schedule because with the state of the world it would be silly to make any promises. Chapters will be of varying length because I have no self control.</p><p>I'm also doing Nano this year, and not with this, so. Boi I die.</p><p>Hope you enjoy! Please comment if you do. :)</p><p>There are going to be a lot of personal headcanons but this story isn't too canon divergent.<br/>The Hollow Knight --&gt; Hollow, The Knight --&gt; Little Ghost</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Little Ghost</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>There was something calling them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If asked, they couldn’t have said if it was a voice or a song, if it was some feeling deep in their gut or an unacknowledged desire. All they knew is that something was urging them across the desolate wastes that seemed to stretch ever forward. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The wind died and the sand and dust settled enough for them to see the great mountain spearing the sky. A single tattered red flag anchored to a metal pole topped with a familiar emblem marked the start of a path, and the tiny traveler set their steps upon it. The climb felt familiar somehow, wings fluttering uselessly as they scaled the rock, too small to carry their body. The howling winds quieted as they reached the top where they paused to catch their breath. Beneath the east side of the mountain sparkled the distant lights of a small town.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Whatever it was called out again and the little bug descended the cliffs. They would find what was beckoning, somehow, someway.</em>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>Dirtmouth wasn’t what Hollow remembered. The few times they had seen the town, it had been a busy, bustling conglomeration of travelers, workers, merchants, and pilgrims. Now it was a quiet, dusty little place with most of the houses boarded up. A few of them had their doors propped open, pale light spilling out from the thresholds, including the Stag Station. Ironically, for Hornet, the village was busier than it had been in years. </p><p>It had been a struggle getting Hollow up out of the well, mostly because of their weakened state, but Hornet was a clever bug and used her needle and thread to jerry-rig a quick pulley-system that allowed Hollow the leverage to haul themself over the crumbling edge. They observed Dirtmouth as she patiently rewound her spool, made quicker by a little mechanism that spun the spool in place and allowed her to simply guide the thread back along its length. She patted their shoulder as she passed and Hollow ambled to their feet to follow her. </p><p>The first bug to greet them was Elderbug, who was perched on the iron bench beneath the lumafly lamp. He smiled at the sight of Hornet, though the expression faded a bit as his eyes traveled up the imposingly tall form next to her.</p><p>“You’ve returned safely,” He said gratefully, “I know you can handle yourself down there, but one can’t help but worry.” </p><p>“It is not so dangerous down there anymore, friend.” Hornet replied. “The foul air that wakes the dead has been banished. Many corpses, but no more foes.” </p><p>“Oh-?” Elderbug looked to Hollow again but seemed too intimidated to address him directly. </p><p>“I thought I heard a familiar voice.” said the cartographer’s wife as she bent low to exit her door. When she straightened, she too eyed Hollow with no lack of uncertainty before she shook it off and came forward. She embraced Hornet, who readily returned the hug, though it was obvious she was still unused to the affection.</p><p>“Please, don’t let my husband hear that the ruins are safe. I’d never see him return if he knew he could chart the caverns he had to avoid before.” Iselda shook her head a bit and sighed loudly.</p><p>“Perhaps, without the dangers, you could go exploring with him for a change. Are you not still owed a trip down to the nearest hot spring anyhow?” Hornet didn’t wait for an answer since it was a rhetorical question anyway. She turned to face Elderbug again. “Dear friend, would you be so kind as to prepare one of the vacant houses? My sibling will need a place to rest after the long, arduous duty they have preformed.” </p><p>“Sibling?” Iselda looked at Hollow, nearly eye to eye with them though their horns gave them considerable height. “You, and this one? I can see the resemblance. But this one also reminds me much of the little one.”</p><p>“They have not visited in quite some time. I’m afraid they must have gotten lost down in the depths of the old kingdom.” Elderbug said sadly, looking at Hollow with new eyes as he searched for someone else in their features.</p><p>“The little Ghost,” Hornet supplied with a nod. “You are correct. I will explain later, for now, Hollow really needs to rest.” </p><p>“Of course!” the elder bug quickly sprung into action, leading the way through the quiet village to one of the unoccupied hovels. He chose one with the highest door and began to unlock and unbar it, bustling inside to stir the sleeping lumafly and make sure nothing had been disturbed. The home was tiny, consisting of only two rooms, but all that was needed was the slightly dusty bed.</p><p>Hollow sank into the mattress and didn’t even care that it groaned its protest. They barely had the ability to sign out a thank you before sleep took them. </p>
<hr/><p>Elderbug was waiting patiently outside when Hornet emerged. She nudged the door shut carefully and peeked in through the dingy window at the sleeping form behind it. Satisfied that Hollow was settled and safe, they gestured to Elderbug and returned to the bench. She settled down with a sigh and stretched her legs out in front of her, adjusting her needle to lean it against the bench. Elderbug joined her with a comfortable distance between them and Iselda stood before them, watching Hornet think. </p><p>“There’s a story here, little weaver, isn’t there?” Iselda asked, crossing her arms loosely. “You have brought many of those living in the ruins to the surface here, but there’s something particular about this one. There’s something…strange about them. And I’m surprised that a sibling wouldn’t be the first bug you’d bring to safety.” </p><p>Hornet let out another sigh, closing her eyes for a moment to further gather her thoughts. She rubbed the space between her horns before quickly banishing the nervous tick. “You’re right, there is a story. But it is a long one, and I’d rather not have to tell it twice or thrice over. When everyone is here and willing, I will try to explain.” She glanced over her shoulder towards the house where Hollow slept. “But the story won’t explain everything. There are questions here, the answers to which I don’t know, and don’t know where to seek them.”</p><p>“Does Hollow have something to do with the ruins suddenly going silent?” Iselda asked, also glancing towards the newly occupied house. </p><p>“If you had asked me that yesterday, I would have said yes, but today I don’t have an answer at all.” Hornet admitted. </p>
<hr/><p>Hornet watched over Hollow as they slept. She perched herself on the low stool across from the bed and watched the exhausted Vessel with a subdued fascination. Over the years she had seen many, battled and even ended a few. Some of them had been overtaken by the Infection, called by that captive light and driven to free Her from Her prison. Her actions had been driven by fear, not by hatred. The Vessels already had a sorry lot in life and there was no reason to despise them beyond what they were capable of. Hornet felt shame but no regret — she couldn’t have allowed a weak Vessel to attempt to face the Hollow Knight.</p><p>Hollow.</p><p>They were approximately the same age. The creation of the Vessels had begun shortly after her birth. She had been just a little grub, still wrapped in a cloth of spider-silk and strapped against her mother’s chest when the first eggs had been dropped into the depths of the Abyss. When she’d been old enough to understand, her mother had told her everything, and what gaps she missed were filled by her sire. She knew what the Vessels were, why they existed, why her mother would be put to an eternal sleep to protect the great Kingdom of Hallownest. </p><p>As she drifted through her memories Hornet realized that she had seen Hollow only once before. A tiny little thing, wrapped in useless wings and padding quietly along the halls of the White Palace in pursuit of their father, the Pale King. She’d watched her sire pause, turn, smile, and place a soft hand between the tiny Vessel’s horns. The two had rounded a corner together and Hornet had never seen the Vessel again. </p><p>But she’d seen her father after the seals had been placed. It had been one of the only times she’d seen her father weep.</p><p>After that, Hornet had lived in the White Palace as the only royal child for quite some time. While she had spent a significant amount of that time with the Pale King she had always been able to see a sort of sadness about him that she could never seem to break through. He’d told her not to worry, that as a leader the regrets were his to bear. She’d worried anyway. </p><p>She was worried now.</p><p>Hornet knew the intricacies of the Dreamer Seals, the Seals of Binding, the very purpose of the great Black Egg. She knew what Hollow was, what the Hollow Knight was supposed to do. And yet, lying on the bed just a few feet from her was that symbol of hope, sleeping restlessly among dusty sheets. For so long she’d gotten used to seeing the Festerglow burning through the eyes of its hosts, blazing with both hatred and the promise of strength and unity. She’d known the moment the Vessel had weakened, felt it deep inside her carapace when the Radiance screamed and tore a voice out of a creature designed to have none. It had wracked the entire Kingdom and set everything crumbling apart. Hornet had watched her world come down around her — her mother sleeping, her father vanished, the White Lady hidden, the Five Great Knights scattered, her home consumed by the hatred of a nearly forgotten deity of light and dreams. </p><p>Hollow hadn’t been strong enough to contain the Radiance. It had burst through the Vessel’s shell, seeped back into the reaches of Hallownest like a thick miasma. Hornet puzzled and puzzled but couldn’t find an answer to the single burning question: What had happened to banish the Infection from the Hollow Knight and free her sibling from their destiny? </p><p>And where had the Little Ghost gone? </p>
<hr/><p>Hornet was there when Hollow roused. </p><p>She had dozed on and off as her sibling slept, resting without truly sleeping. She hadn’t wanted to leave and risk them waking up alone. Hollow seemed disoriented and groggy when they finally came into full awareness and they seemed surprised to see Hornet there, but was even more so when she reached out and smoothed her hand along one of their horns.</p><p>“Hello,” her voice was soft and quiet. “You slept deeply, if not a bit restlessly. How are you feeling?”</p><p>Hollow shifted carefully to get their arm out from under them, <em>“Still exhausted, but better. Thank you.” </em></p><p>Hornet nodded a little and stood from her stool, adjusting her cloak around her almost fitfully. She leaned to take a look out of the window and seeing that there was no sign of anyone coming to disturb them, she sat herself down again. </p><p>“Did father ever speak of me?” she asked them, her head tilted to the side. “We never met, but I knew of you, even back when we were grubs.” </p><p>Hollow blinked. Their gaze drifted away from Hornet as they combed through their memories, trying to find any recollection of a child that could have grown to be the bug sitting before them. After several moments they recalled a flash of red — so bright and intense against the whites and silvers of the White Palace — and opened their eyes in shock. </p><p><em>“Hornet.”</em> the name had a symbol of its own and didn’t need to be fully spelled out. Hollow remembered the Pale King teaching them that sign, different from the sign for species of bug. <em>“Yes! Not very much, there was too much training to be done, but your name was always said with love.</em>” </p><p>Hornet smiled sadly, “I am the eldest child of the Pale King, sister to all of the Vessels. You, Little Ghost, all those far below us. We share much, but I lack any connection to the void. I could never be a hollow vessel.” She paused, eyeing their sibling with an emotion they couldn’t identify. “…neither could you.”</p><p>Hollow flinched at the statement and recoiled from her. Though they couldn’t deny it, the harsh truth still hurt. They hadn’t been able to do the one thing they’d been created to do and their weakness had led to the destruction of Hallownest. Pressure gathered behind their eyes and they put a hand to their cracked shell, ashamed to be trembling and ashamed to be a failure.</p><p>“Apologies,” Hornet’s hand was suddenly covering theirs, “I should…choose my words more carefully. I didn’t mean-” She sighed heavily as she pulled their hand down and kept it gently grasped in her own. “I’ve been on my own for a long time. I’m not very good at speaking to others. I didn’t mean to say you were flawed. I was saying that I don’t think our father’s intent could have been realized.” </p><p>Hollow looked at her curiously, blinking to push back the tears that had threatened to fall. Hornet stared back with her apology still in her eyes. </p><p>“I knew what the Vessels were supposed to be. Empty shells filled with the void, untouchable by the Radiance’s dream-plague. Constructs of questionable existence.” She released their hand to cup both of hers against Hollow’s cheeks. “…No mind to think.”</p><p>Hollow shuddered under her words, their eyes squeezing shut. </p><p>“…no will to break.”</p><p>Hollow let out a sob, a tiny sound followed by words that shouldn’t exist in a voice that was too large and too soft for the creature speaking it,</p><p>“…no voice to cry suffering.” </p><p>Hornet’s thumbs stroked along the undersides of Hollow’s eye sockets, “…there it is. The voice the Radiance gave you when She screamed out Her hatred. Likely the only gift She gave you beyond pain and suffering.” </p><p>Hollow shook their head. The voice clawed its way up their throat, muscle and sinew and chitin moving unnaturally to produce sound from a mouth that had never been for speaking. They remembered when the Infection had surged within them, when it had filled their skull and burst out from them, when the sound had ripped itself out of them— hatred, anger, despair, fear, desperation — a scream that had echoed through the entirety of the kingdom. It was a pain unlike anything else. Hot and searing, bubbling, expanding, scalding. And the whole time Hollow had been bound in place, unable to move an inch, the Seal of Binding holding them tight in their armor and chains. In a way, the screaming had been as much theirs as Hers.</p><p>“Our father was trying to save his kingdom but that does not excuse what you went through. Especially since you were given an impossible task.” Hornet said softly. “Do not despair, Hollow. By some method, the Festerglow has been banished, and you are free. Your failure to contain the Radiance is not an indication of your worth, your failure is simply the outcome of that impossible burden placed upon you since your birth.” </p><p>Hollow sobbed again and pressed their cheeks more firmly into Hornet’s gentle hands, needing the support and the comfort. Hornet readily gave it, shifting to embrace the much larger bug against the softness of her cloak. </p><p>It could have been just a few minutes, an hour, maybe the entire day passed before Hollow felt strong enough to sit up straight again. Hornet settled onto the bed with them, keeping a steady hand on them as they wiped the tar-black tears from their shell. When Hollow exhaled they felt ten pounds lighter.</p><p>“What…What were they like-?” Hollow asked, struggling around the words in their unnatural new voice. It was strange, layered and wispy, like two voices speaking over each other in the quiet of a dark room. “The little one?”</p><p>“Little Ghost?” Hornet took in a breath and let it out slowly as she collected her thoughts. “…tenacious. Driven. I underestimated them on our first meeting. They had nothing but a badly damaged nail and still looked as if they were soft from hatching. But they were strong. But strange.” She worried at her lower lip with a finger. “…they are the reason I think that your desired hollowness was unreachable.” </p><p>Hollow tilted their head in question and Hornet reached out to wipe away a trail of black that had been missed. She flicked it off her fingers carelessly and didn’t seem to notice that Hollow looked a bit embarrassed.</p><p>“Your kind, they were created to house a crucial emptiness. You are supposed to lack what the Radiance could latch onto, yet Little Ghost…they made an impression on anyone they met. Even the old Stag in the stations has a good word to say about them. At first I thought, perhaps, everyone was simply projecting their own emotions onto their blank little face, but then…One day, I was in Dirtmouth to purchase some supplies, and the Elderbug was holding a flower. He told me that Little Ghost had given it to him.” Hornet paused and eyed Hollow uncertainly. “…why? If they lacked a will and a mind, what drove them to bring the flower from the crypts beneath the Resting Grounds all the way here to Dirtmouth to gift it to Elderbug?” </p><p>“…g-gratitude?” Hollow suggested.</p><p>Hornet shrugged her narrow shoulders, “I suppose it doesn’t matter why, just that they thought to do so and went through with it. It was not an easy journey, and the flower is extremely delicate. It was not an accident or a whim, but a dedicated effort.”</p><p>“Kindness.” Hollow added. “A kindness.”</p><p>“A kindness that should not have been possible, and was done regardless.” Hornet nodded in agreement. “But Little Ghost is not like you. You have never stepped foot beyond the kingdom’s borders, but Ghost, they spent many years beyond the wastes. Something called them back, and I do not think it was a coincidence that both they and Quirrel arrived in Hallownest soon after your cry echoed out of the Black Egg.” </p><p>“Elderbug-…said they hadn’t come back in a wh-…while.” Hollow looked towards the window anxiously as if they expected to see the other Vessel trotting up. “What…happened to them-?”</p><p>“I don’t know.” Hornet admitted. “But I intend to find out.”</p>
<hr/><p>Hollow had slept for a few more hours under Hornet’s watch before being handed food to eat and water to drink. No longer sealed within the Black Egg, their body needed the sustenance no longer given by the void that created both the structure and the Vessel. Hollow hadn’t eaten in so long that it took several moments for them to remember how, how to grind the food to mash between their teeth, how to judge the correct volume of a sip of water. Their stomach wasn’t happy with the work it was expected to do so suddenly and they spent some time in quiet suffering on their bed with their arm wrapped around their middle. </p><p>Later that day, Hollow was able to be up and around, and Hornet introduced them properly to Elderbug, Iselda, and Sly. Hornet paid the tiny merchant for a new belt and sheath for Hollow’s nail and asked him to tell “Sheo and Nailsmith” to pause in their long journey of finding inspiring vistas down below should they return to Dirtmouth before she did. </p><p>“Where, go?” Hollow asked her then, words coming easier the longer they used their strange, discordant voice. </p><p>“I’m going back to Deepnest.” Hornet replied. “With the Dreamer Seals now defunct, I need to see my mother.”</p><p>Hollow blinked and tilted their head back and forth as a sort of recognition. Despite having a voice, they were too used to communicating in other ways to so easily make the switch. On top of that, they weren’t too sure the voice would be with them forever. It didn’t belong to them, after all. </p><p>Hollow followed Hornet to the Stag Station, keeping by her side as they descended the short elevator together. She paused when she reached the bell, looking up at them over her shoulder.</p><p>“You don’t have to come with me.” she assured them. “There’s no more danger with the Festerglow gone, and though the denizens of Deepnest refused to allow the Pale King into their land, there <em>is </em>a Stag Station where I’m going. I shouldn’t be long with the Old Stag’s help.” </p><p>Hollow gestured and shook their head, signing out a rough explanation that they wanted to accompany her. They had never met Hornet’s mother, Herrah the Beast, but had some desire to know her. Hornet didn’t argue or protest, she just drew her needle and knocked the eye into the side of the bell. It swung, the clapper bouncing off the brassy walls and ringing with a strikingly clear note that echoed down the long caverns of the Stagways. After a long moment the sound of running echoed back and though Hornet remained rooted to the spot, Hollow stumbled back a little when the great Old Stag came barreling into the station. He came to a sudden, skidding stop and exhaled sharply with a rough, grating sound.</p><p>“Happy to see you again, little weaver.” The Stag said, lifting his head to peer at her over the edge of the platform. His large, liquid eyes lit upon Hollow soon after, showcasing no shortage of surprise. “You’ve made a new friend.”</p><p>“This is Hollow.” Hornet said easily, sheathing her needle. “That was four minutes, Old Stag. You’re getting slow~” </p><p>The Stag huffed and gave his great body a shake, faking offense at the teasing, “Young bugs, always in such a hurry.” </p><p>Hornet laughed, and Hollow stared at her in wonder. The sound brought a warmth to them, a little rush of bubbling joy. </p><p>“Can you take us to the Distant Village station, Old Stag?” Hornet asked, her smile muted but her voice still full of mirth and careful affection for the hard-working beetle. </p><p>“Of course I can.” was the reply, followed by a quick sideways shuffle to allow both passengers onto the carriage on his back.</p><p>“Thank you. And do be a bit gentle. Hollow has never ridden a Stag before.” </p><p>Hollow settled into the back seat and strapped the restraint across their lap. They gripped one of the armrests tightly. There wasn’t fear so much as apprehension, and not for their safety but for the state of their stomach.</p><p>Once both of his passengers were buckled in safely the Old Stag took a deep, steadying breath and broke out into a run. Most of the Stagway was dark, lit dimly by lumafly installations that let the Stags know which direction was which, though a Stag of his age no longer had need of such a thing. He dashed through the tunnels, skidding around corners and through crossroads with a deadly accuracy. Hollow quickly lost track of any sense of direction and had no idea how Hornet looked so relaxed when there was no way to see where they were going.</p><p>The Old Stag eventually came skidding to a stop at a new station, throwing up dust and pebbles. He let out that gruff exhale again and lowered himself so that the carriage was even with the platform. Hornet stepped off lightly and then hopped to the ground before the Stag to put a hand to his sturdy horn. </p><p>“Thank you, friend. You are ever a fixed point in a world of uncertainties.” </p><p>“I will run the Stagways of this kingdom until I cannot, or there are no more passengers who need me.” He replied gently. </p><p>Hornet leaned and pressed their shells together lightly before turning and easily jumping back onto the platform. Hollow was more careful as they stepped down. They looked around curiously at the station, shrouded with spiders webs and stocked with spools and spools of silk. The silk glittered and glowed, and when Hollow didn’t focus their eyes on a specific point it seemed to flow and ripple. They followed Hornet out of the station and found themself looking down into a dark, circular cavern strung with webs and spherical clusters of buildings. They hung from the ceiling and clung to the walls with an effortless sort of grace.</p><p>Hornet led Hollow down the spiraling staircases, slabs of smooth stone held in place by that strong webbing, to the largest building in the Distant Village. There was no door, only an archway that was surprisingly tall enough for Hollow to pass through without ducking. They watched their sister cross to the back of the room, not looking twice at the broken bench and the scattered remains of bugs long dead. This place had once been bustling with life but despite the vast distance, the Light-that-Hates had taken root in the dreams of the Spiders too. </p><p>Hornet touched the wall and, after a moment of feeling along the surface she hooked a finger under a hidden switch and pulled open a door. She gestured and then vanished beyond it, leaving Hollow to hurry to catch up. The corridor beyond was dusty and plain but it opened into a much larger chamber, a high ceiling strung with lanterns and candles crowded around a plinth where a body lay. Hollow couldn’t help the way they stretched to properly look over Hornet’s head to take in the appearance of the sleeping Spider Queen. </p><p>Still sleeping.</p><p>Hornet circled the plinth cautiously with a puzzled expression. She looked up at Hollow uncertainly. Hollow stepped up beside the plinth and drew their nail, striking its pommel against the edge of the platform. White magic sprung to life around Herrah The Beast, the Dreamer Seal of Binding still holding strong despite the Black Egg no longer needing its protection. Hornet frowned. She knew the seals were created to last eternally but she couldn’t imagine the Weavers not creating some sort of failsafe. After all, the Weavers had held much love for Herrah. </p><p>Hollow stared down at the seal, gaze tracing the lines that looped and crossed over Herrah’s body, hovering a few inches above her like a blanket. The magic was familiar, neither hot nor cold, bright and pale, the lines shimmering with tiny vibrations. On this side it looked like just a beautiful and intricate spell woven of silk, but Hollow knew that on the other side it was like being wrapped in barbs. Or, perhaps, that was just their experience since they had the Radiance bound inside them. When they had been led to the Black Egg, when their father had said his final goodbye, when they had been draped in their armor and suspended in the enchanted chains…when the Seal of Binding had been wrapped around them…</p><p>Hornet jumped when Hollow wheezed and sagged against the plinth, sliding to the floor as if their legs would no longer hold them. Their hand clawed at their eye sockets, body shuddering as they remembered the slow, climbing agony of the Seal being applied one thread at a time. It had been a careful process. The Weavers who had assisted in its creation skittered about, pulling and tugging the silk that held the powerful magics of a distant kingdom. Thread by thread they had wrapped Hollow in sharp, stinging, stabbing bindings, harsher than the bite of a vengefly and deeper than the sting of a hopper — When the binding was halfway bound and the Weavers were set to finish their work, Hollow had reached out into the Dream Realm and gripped the presence of the Radiance tightly, had focused with every ounce of their being to force the light into their body. She had fought them, screaming and struggling. Orange sludge had spewed from their eye sockets and mouth, sickly sweet and boiling hot, trying to burst out of their shell. Hollow had struggled to push the hateful light further into their center but a lapse in focus resulted in their left arm bursting from its socket in a shower of infected slime. The Weavers had pulled, wrapping the seal over the injury and sealing it shut, cauterizing the wound instantly. Hollow had eventually swallowed the Infection down and then, as the orange light flickered out of their eyes the Weavers had pulled the Seal over their head and bound it all together — suffocating them — </p><p>“Hollow-!” Hornet’s hands were on their shell, holding them upright against the dais, concern written across her features. Hollow could hear her and wanted to blink, wanted to stop the torrent of emotions drowning them, to push away the pain and terror they remembered so clearly it was almost happening again. But behind their eyes was a great and terrible sight, a world of light and clouds, the burning sun spreading wings as that scream, <em>Her </em>scream, echoed deafeningly through the air. The light glinted off an unfamiliar golden mask, and She arrived there, Her power blazing and hot and searing and Her hatred palpable. </p><p>Hollow felt their arm move without their consent, felt their tiny fingers close on the hilt of a small nail, felt their useless wings flare out in challenge. The fear was bile in their mouth, black blood in their teeth, but within them pulsed a darkness beyond dark and a desire that matched the heat of the Radiance’s light. Hollow leaped forward, nail in one hand, spell ready in the other — before everything went black. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Me: Okay, chapter one was a fair length, so chapter two should be about the sa-<br/>Chapter 2: is literally 4 times the length<br/>Me: O-Oh.<br/>Chapter 3, looming up behind me: kukuku</p><p>I like this chapter and I hope y'all do too. :)</p><p>((Also why is Ao3 posting my chapter 1 notes below this? I tried to fix it but for me they're still there. ok.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Aftershocks</h2></a>
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  <em>The scariest thing about the room was the silence. They were used to it, in some ways, there was a distinct lack of the sound of life through the entirety of the ruined kingdom, but this silence of the throne room was unique. There was no sound when their feet struck the floor, no echo that bounced back from the cavernous walls as they carefully maneuvered between the still bodies of the defunct guards. The black sludge that oozed out from the creases of their armor was familiar and they considered that it was the reason for that all encompassing, deafening silence.</em>
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  <em>The room was darker than it should have been. Tendrils of pitch black were snaked across the floor like ivy but they didn’t seek any light. If they had, they all would have stretched towards the corpse seated on the throne. </em>
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  <em>The Little Ghost stood there, staring up at the body with their big, shiny black eyes. The Pale King, even in death, still gave off a light shimmer of that pale radiance that history said had been blinding. His shell was pristine, narrow cheeks and upturned eye sockets now devoid of any shine of life, the fierce horns that curved from the crown of his head as a statement of his stature. His robes had been tarnished by time, dingy around his delicate form, and his hands were couched gently in his lap around a brilliant white fragment. </em>
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  <em>The Little Ghost reached forward slowly as if they expected the king to jump awake. But the corpse remained a corpse, even as they brushed their fingers across the back of their sire’s hand as if seeking comfort, or seeking to comfort him. They drew their hand back a little, then reached forward with both to lift the white fragment free. Holding it close to their chest they stared up into the face of their sire one more time — wanting, wishing, mourning, hating — before turning away. </em>
</p><hr/><p>When Hollow surfaced, their head was resting in Hornet’s lap. Her hands were gently resting on them, one at their shoulder and one between their horns. When they stirred, Hornet looked down with a sharp inhale of relief.</p><p>“Thank goodness.” She shifted to help them sit upright. “What happened? Are you alright?”</p><p>Hollow braced their hand against the floor and took several steadying breaths. They felt heavy and weak, like their carapace was going to tremble to pieces. Something caught the edge of their vision and they turned their head quickly, but there was nothing there. </p><p>“F-Fine.” Hollow managed, swallowing hard. “Bad memories. <span class="pwa-mark decorator">Ov</span>-<span class="pwa-mark decorator">verwhelm</span>. Sorry, Hornet-”</p><p>“You don’t have to apologize. That was much more unpleasant for you than for me.” Hornet said, her tone a little clipped. She stood brushed her cloak clean of the dust that had collected along its hem. “I should have asked you to stay behind, honestly. You’re probably still weakened from your time locked away. You don’t recover from an ordeal like that in a few days. Come. We’ll get you back to Dirtmouth and you’ll take some more time to rest.”</p><p>Hollow didn’t agree but they did allow her to help them to their feet. They gestured to the plinth unhappily, “But, not done here?”</p><p>“We are, unless you have any ideas.” Hornet said with a grimace. “We can’t do anything to break the seal right now, and my mother seems safe in her stasis. If we’re lucky, some of the villagers might have some ideas. Now, come on, you.” </p><p>Hollow let out a huff but followed her out of the room, back down the corridor into the main chamber of the house. Hornet relocked the hidden door and, keeping her eyes on Hollow, led the way back out into the village proper and up the spiraling staircases. As they went, Hollow tried to remember everything they could about the nature of the seals. Any information at all could be crucial to breaking them without harming the Dreamer beneath and they wanted their sister to have her mother back as soon as possible.</p><p>Again, a snatch of something, and Hollow turned their head. A flash of pale white shell and the glint of a tiny nail — it was gone before they could truly focus on what they were trying to see. They paused to take a more thorough look around, but nothing moved, not even to breathe. </p><p>They continued up the stairs carefully, making sure to place their feet very firmly. The spiders hadn’t needed safety rails so there were none and a tumble would send them down into the black waters below, if they were lucky. If they were unlucky, they’d bounce off every structure hanging in the cavern on the way down before landing in the too-still lake. They were grateful to step onto the platform that led into the Stag Station where Hornet was waiting, facing them.</p><p>“You should have seen it at its height. It was a wonderful place, despite what the aristocracy of Hallownest said.” Hornet assured them with a weak smile. “Stories and songs in every thread, even the ones holding our homes aloft.” </p><p>Hollow returned her smile but it faded when they looked over her shoulder towards the entrance of the station and saw a tiny bug with grey wings, a large pale shell, and elegantly curved horns. A nail was strapped to their back and a pale pink light emanated from their chest. They struggled to find their voice as they reached out with their one hand, startled by the sudden appearance, but by the time Hornet spun around with her needle at the ready the mirage had gone. </p><p>“What was it?” Hornet demanded, on edge and ready for an unseen enemy, but Hollow shook their head.</p><p>“Nothing. Seeing things.” The Vessel muttered unhappily as they scrubbed at their eye sockets with their palm. “Things that <span class="pwa-mark decorator">ar</span>-aren’t here.” </p><p>Hornet looked concerned as she crossed the short distance between them and reached to take their hand. Comforted by the anchor, the two of them continued into the station where the Old Stag still dutifully waited. Hornet filled him in as Hollow climbed back into the carriage and prepared for the return to Dirtmouth. </p><hr/><p>Hornet returned Hollow to their new lodging the moment they arrived back at the quiet surface village. She’d insisted that they get more water and keep off their feet if they were having hallucinations, but Hollow wasn’t certain that’s what the problem was. Nonetheless, they obeyed for her peace of mind, though the calm didn’t last. </p><p>Hollow drifted to sleep at some point but their dreams were not pleasant. Were they dreaming? It didn’t really feel like it, not even like a lucid dream. It felt more like a memory but they couldn’t recall the instance being replayed in their mind. There was that gold mask again, the endless cloudy sky, rough grey stone under their feet. Across the arena stood a small figure with blazing eyes and a nail in their hand. Hollow wanted to call out to them but there was no unnatural voice in their throat, and when their body shifted they realized that they still had both of their arms. </p><p>Then the tiny bug rushed them, closing the distance between them with a short, controlled dash — and Hollow blinked, suddenly standing face to face with the ghost they’d seen in the Distant Village, surrounded by dozens, no, hundreds, of others with faces so similar to their own. Hollow reached out their hand, suddenly tiny and pudgy as if they were freshly hatched, and helped the other Vessel to their feet. As they did so, light suddenly speared down against them from the sky and that scream, Her scream, echoed down from above, prompting all the Vessels to look skyward. </p><p>Suddenly, they were all looking at Little Ghost, who was still gazing up with a iron hard determination in their large black eyes. There was something stirring in them, in Little Ghost, in all of the Vessels crowded around. The ground rumbled as Little Ghost spread their wings, grown enough to assist in flight now, and then a deep and familiar darkness rose up —</p><p>She was different this time, but they didn’t know how. She seemed stronger, brighter, younger perhaps. Her wings looked larger and seemed to spread wider, Her sunlight eyes burned so brightly that it was difficult to look at Her. When She summoned Her blades they were sharper, paler, reflecting Her light into rainbow tinted sunbeams. The Radiance, the Absolute Radiance, the great Light Goddess was before them as if She had never been forgotten or abandoned. There was no time to admire Her, though, not as She lashed out at the tiny Vessel before Her. </p><p>Hollow knew it wasn’t them fighting, that they were seeing an experience through eyes that belonged to someone else. To the fierce little bug, the vanished Little Ghost. They were just a spectator to Ghost’s battle, the flashes of light off the edge of their pure nail, the deafening scream of the Abyssal Shriek that wrenched itself from Ghost’s mouth, the great void tendrils reaching up and lashing around the Radiance’s bulk — and suddenly, they weren’t Ghost anymore, Hollow was looking up from below at the form of a creature they had never seen, an enormous void construct that clenched a hand around the Radiance’s head and set into Her with claws and teeth, tearing and gnashing and screaming and ripping until the Goddesses’ pale blood of Essence and Dreams burst from Her, Her body dragged down into the depths of the void that had risen the terrifying Void Entity — </p><p> </p><hr/><p>Hollow lurched awake with a ragged yell, tearing at their sheets and frightening the half asleep Hornet who had been resting on the opposite side of the room. She leaped to her feet with the wicked fast reflexes of a bug constantly on alert, her eyes darting all around to find the source of her siblings’ distress.</p><p>It came from inside. Hollow wretched and choked as void poured from their mouth and into their lap, leaking from their eye sockets and over the smooth curves of their mask. Hornet gasped, darting forward, but Hollow frantically beckoned for her to stay back. They shuddered and shook as they waited the sickness out, hacking and gasping.</p><p>“D-Don’t touch-….void…dangerous-” They managed to spit out. “H-…Hurt Hornet. Stay-…” </p><p>Hornet kept her distance but her worry was practically humming in the air between them. After a moment the fit seemed to pass and Hollow carefully withdrew themself from the ruined bedding. They stripped the bed down, using clean corners to scrub at their mouth and eyes before roughly gathering the soiled linen together and tossing them into the empty hearth on the other side of the room. A well placed strike and Hornet’s needle sent a shower of hot sparks over the old woven cloth and set them alight. The void hissed and sizzled as it was burned away.</p><p>Hornet grabbed onto Hollow’s arm tightly and her eyes were very serious when they looked down at her. Her fingers trembled as she held them.</p><p>“…what can I do? You’re ill, but you’re not like other bugs. I don’t know what medicine would help you.”</p><p>Hollow grimaced, “D-Don’t know. Sorry…” They pulled their arm from her grip so that they could hold her hand instead. “…bad dreams. Maybe, dreams? Little Ghost, fight, g-gold mask. Feels like…a memory-? Not a dream.”</p><p>Hornet stared up at them for several moment before her gaze wandered away from them. She seemed lost in thought for a while and when she met their eyes again, her fingers tightened around theirs. </p><p>“…I’ve had the same kind of dream.” </p><p>The strangeness of their shared experience barely had time to settle in before there was a commotion outside. Hornet darted to the door and shoved it open roughly, needle in hand, and Hollow gripped their nail as they ducked out of the door after her. Hornet was quick as lightning across the barren plaza, skidding to a stop when she came face to face with the reason for the commotion. An unfamiliar bug was standing just at the entrance to Dirtmouth being interrogated by a very suspicious cluster of the villagers. </p><p>“Really now, I mean no harm,” the new bug was saying, her antennae flicking from where they jutted out from beneath her head-wrap. “Is this any way to treat your neighbors?”</p><p>“Perhaps if we’d known you were a neighbor before now,” Oro muttered unhappily as he towered over the considerably smaller bug. “I know what you are, and we don’t need any trouble in this town from the likes of you.”</p><p>“No need to be so rude, Oro-” Elderbug looked beside himself. </p><p>“She’s a Confessor,” Oro cut him off with a jerk of his finger towards the newcomer, “Their lot always bring bad luck and dark magic.”</p><p>The new bug chittered and clicked as she wrung her hands together, obviously offended but not wanting to further incite the Nailmaster. </p><p>Hornet made her way through the small crowd, butting up against Iselda and Sly, who were both trying to gently corral the newcomer away so that they could speak without interruption. Sly looked particularly exasperated.</p><p>“You’ll have to forgive him, he’s incredibly superstitious.” </p><p>“It’s not superstition-!”</p><p>Sly ignored the protest. “What brings you into Dirtmouth so suddenly, neighbor?”</p><p>“I just thought I felt a bit of a disturbance. A shift. A sudden stain.” The Confessor said quickly, her eyes darting around but not finding what they were seeking.</p><p>“…what kind of disturbance?” Hornet asked, trying not to shrink under the weight of the stranger’s gaze. The Confessor’s eyes were shaded by their head-wrap and they glowed a bright, silvery sort of white from beneath the thick layers of black fabric. </p><p>“Hmm…it is difficult to explain. But, I’m getting ahead of myself. My name is Jiji, and the large one over there is right, I am a Confessor by trade and by birth. I’ve been sleeping for some time, I think, and I was awoken by something strange-”</p><p>Jiji’s eyes wandered away from Hornet, up over her head to where she could see Hollow looming. Their tall frame and long horns made them hard to miss. Jiji chittered again, this time with a little bit of surprise.</p><p>“I see. It was you. You are touched by forces older than this broken kingdom and bear the weight of its regrets.” Hollow blinked, frowning uncomfortably. Jiji clapped her hands together with a sense of finality. “Come with me. We’ll get you all fixed up, lest you keep leaving stains all over.” </p><hr/><p>Hornet had told them that it was completely their choice whether or not to accompany the Confessor back to their little cave at the edge of town. Hollow had felt odd about making the decision but had agreed to go along. Vomiting up raw void was not something that could just be ignored and, if Hollow’s suspicions and feelings were correct, Jiji knew more about the void than she would let on in front of the average bug.</p><p>The cave was little more than a smooth stone circle ringed with candles and a small living space at the back. It hummed ever so softly with magic that felt warm and comforting to Hollow in a way that they’d never experienced. Jiji gave them a cushion to sit on and then she plopped herself across from them, her stumpy little legs barely peeking out from beneath her oversized robe. </p><p>“You’re something special, aren’t you?” Jiji said lightly. “But with so much regret piled and piled on your shoulders.” She eyed him carefully for a moment before she began to chitter and scratch at the floor. Her claws scraped marks against the stone, leaving dusty white lines in intricate patterns. “If we don’t deal with our regrets, Burdened Vessel, they spill out of us. We leave them behind in the world and they start to drain the hope from us. Bugs like you leave stronger stains behind.” </p><p>Hollow felt cold suddenly. The title that had dropped from the Confessor’s mouth felt too heavy. They stared down at the symbols that Jiji was drawing, wondering how she knew what they were but too afraid to voice it. There was something familiar and completely alien about her in a way that made their shell itch. </p><p>“What…Confessor? What is-…purpose?” Hollow asked carefully.</p><p>“I am gifted with the ability to see the stains on the world around us.” Jiji replied, still scratching and scraping away at the floor between them. “The duties of a Confessor are simple, really. We open the wound, suck out the poison, and help the injury heal into a stronger shell. But it doesn’t work for every bug, you see. Just bugs touched like you.” </p><p>“…from below,” Hollow’s eyes narrowed a bit. “You?”</p><p>“Oh, heaven’s no.” Jiji laughed and shook her head. “I am a gifted common bug, no void born child like you. My masters, they are very in tune with the great dark down deep below us all, but me, I am made of chitin and flesh like most of the denizens of the earth.” </p><p>Hollow dropped their gaze back to the floor. The etchings had started small but now they were wider than the span of their hand, circles and loops and runes they couldn’t recognize. The Confessor drew them with such precision that it was obvious she’d done it hundreds of times.</p><p>“No worries.” Jiji continued. “You and I, we can work to free you from all those burdens placed on you. You were never given the chance to express and manage the pain so close to your heart. It will not be easy. You will not like it. But afterwards, beyond that, you will feel much better with your stains washed away.” </p><p> </p><hr/><p>Hornet watched Hollow follow the Confessor through the graveyard, unable to stop watching until they were out of sight behind the heavy door of Jiji’s little cave. She frowned inwardly. It wasn’t like her to be so emotional, but then again, she’d shut herself off to a lot of emotion when Hallownest had fallen around her. Now, with other bugs again, she felt the layers of her shell being peeled back and the pieces of her she’d kept hidden unearthed. It was uncomfortable, but it wasn’t all bad. </p><p>Her attachment to Hollow had been swift, almost instant, and Hornet wasn’t sure how to conceptualize that. Yes, Hollow was her sibling, they shared a sire, in some ways it was natural for her to feel some measure of responsibility for their wellbeing — but they had never known each other, and the differences between them were far more drastic than their similarities. Still. When everyone else in the world was gone, was it really surprising that she’d cling to the single thread left drifting in the wind? </p><p>“Something on your mind?” Sly asked her, jolting her out of her haze. </p><p>“Are Sheo and Nailsmith back yet?” Sly shook his head and Hornet sighed. “Damn. I was hoping I could speak to Nailsmith about Hollow’s arm.”</p><p>“How did they lose it? Quite a clean break.” Sly sounded almost impressed.</p><p>“I don’t know. I haven’t the heart to ask about it.” Hornet thumped her own fist against the palm of her opposite hand. “Well, those two could take forever on their sightseeing journey, especially with the roads so clear. Sly, can you gather everyone who is here in the plaza? I need to talk about something important.”</p><p>“As you say, little needle.”</p><hr/><p>Mato dropped the large stone at the edge of the plaza, smiling when Hornet thanked him and hopped up onto it. It gave her a little bit of height so that everyone could see her but it didn’t make her feel like she was up on a pedestal. She counted heads quickly —two of the Nailmaster brothers, Sly, Cornifer and Iselda, and Elderbug. Among the missing were Sheo and Nailsmith, along with Quirrel, though he in particular was rarely present. The small self-proclaimed knight with the wooden nail had left long ago after he’d annoyed everyone half to death and nearly met his end on the tip of Iselda’s blade. </p><p>“Hello, everyone. I’m sorry to take up your personal time.” Hornet began, straightening her spine and keeping her shoulders back so that she looked more in control than she felt. “I wanted to tell this story when everyone was present, but I have some things I need to do and I don’t want to leave these things unsaid. Firstly, the Festerglow has been banished — this means that the ruins beneath us are safe, aside from some environmental hazards. Please still keep your guard up just in case, though.” She could immediately hear Iselda muttering to Cornifer about how he wasn’t allowed to go spelunking for days on end, followed by him promising her he wouldn’t. </p><p>“Secondly, you all have at least seen Hollow now. Their story is a long and complicated one, and it is not fully mine to tell. I will tell you that Hollow was responsible for containing the Infection and kept Hallownest safe for many years. Now, the Infection is gone and their chains are broken, but that burden has taken its toll. If they seem strange or uncomfortable, please remember that our faces are the first they’ve seen in years.”</p><p>Hornet paused to make sure everyone was still with her,</p><p>“..thirdly, part of the method to eliminate the Infection involved many Seals of Binding created by the Weavers and the three Dreamers. Though the seals are no longer needed, they keep their hold on the Dreamers, one of which is my mother. I very much wish to free her.” She let that sink in for a moment. “Many of you have ventured far beyond this village, into the depths of Hallownest. If, in your travels, you have come across any information about how to break a Dreamer’s Seal, please…I need to know. That’s all.”</p><p>With that, Hornet hopped off the stone soapbox and took a steadying breath. She quickly looked towards the graveyard but the door to the Confessor’s cave was shut and there was nothing to see. She spun back around when Cornifer approached her,</p><p>“I may have something for you, Hornet.” the cartographer said warmly. He reached for his knapsack full of maps but realized too late it wasn’t there. He floundered for a moment before his brain caught up to his intentions and he gestured for her to follow. He led her back to his home and map shop where he promptly started digging through the drafts.</p><p>“…I just got those organized, you know.” Iselda said heatedly from the front door as she stooped just to look in. “It’s your turn to clean up your mess, Corny.”</p><p>“Yes dear-” Cornifer replied distantly, letting out a triumphant little honk as he found what he was looking for. He laid a map out on the counter and rolled it flat. “I don’t know how much this will help you, but when I was charting the Resting Grounds, I met a peculiar old moth. She lives here, in the highest reaches. We spoke on the nature of dreams and she seemed very knowledgeable about it. Perhaps she could have some idea of how to solve your problem.” </p><p>“It’s a start.” Hornet said with a smile, “Thank you.”</p><p>Hornet looked up at Iselda, who was still hovering by the front door, giving her husband a look that made it clear he needed to undo his un-organizing of his stock, “I’m going to head out right away. If Hollow finishes with the Confessor before I’m back, will you tell them where I am, and make sure they get more rest?”</p><p>“Will do. Be safe, Hornet.” </p><hr/><p>Dirtmouth and the Resting Grounds were also connected by the Stagways, so Hornet had extra help with her hurried task. Though she trusted the villagers, she didn’t want to leave Hollow alone for too long, especially after what was likely to be a difficult experience for them. The Old Stag was swift to get her to her destination, and Hornet called back a thanks as she raced out of the station and into the cavern filled with monuments, headstones, statues, and mausoleums. It was a truly haunting place — the air felt thick and the feeling of being watched was unshakeable. </p><p>Hornet raced up the steep staircase as quickly as she could manage. They were old and heavily worn, nearly an inch shorter in their centers due to thousands of feet traversing them. When she reached the top level of the rows of mausoleums she paused to catch her breath and look around. The place looked as deserted as it always had but she couldn’t recall if she’d ever come up to this level. She’d never had a need to. </p><p>Along the western walls a string of lumafly lanterns caught her eye. She approached them with her hand poised to grab her needle, following the light through an open doorway. Beyond was a small room clouded with incense and crowded with pillows and tapestries, and in the back of the room was the hunched form of an old moth. She was draped and layered in blankets that covered her fragile wings and her large, bulbous eyes were misted over with blindness.</p><p>“Hello Hornet, daughter of Herrah.” The Seer said kindly, startling her guest. She reached one furry hand from beneath her shroud and patted the space in front of her in invitation. </p><p>“You knew I was coming?” Hornet asked uncertainly as she eased herself into the room and sat down. The bug before her wasn’t capable of being too much of a threat but she placed her needle by her side nonetheless, just in case. </p><p>“Not when,” the Seer replied, her long antennae twitching and quivering as she drew the blankets more tightly around her as if Hornet had brought in a chill. “Just that you would. I’m sorry that I could not save you the trouble of the journey. I wish I could help you, but I have nothing to offer.”</p><p>Hornet frowned. She hadn’t even said what she needed yet but if the old moth already knew then there was no point in arguing. Still. </p><p>“Are you sure? Nothing at all?”</p><p>“To break a Dreamer’s Seal, you need the bugs who placed it.” the Seer explained. “Or, you need a tool capable of parting the veil between dreams and waking. Not many exist anymore. My tribe created one called the Dream Nail, but I am the last of my kind and I already gifted mine to another.”</p><p>Hornet clenched her fists into her cloak, “…you gave it to the Little Ghost.”</p><p>The Seer hummed, her eyes closing as she gently rocked herself back and forth. The song she constructed was broken and unfamiliar to the bug sitting across from her, but it made Hornet shudder nonetheless. There was something too old about it, something that stirred a distant fear in the same way as seeing the orange glimmer in a husk’s eyes. </p><p>“I did.” the Seer finally said. “I gifted it to them when the Dreamers reached out and cast them into the Dream Realm. It allowed them to tear their way back into waking. And then, together, they and I, we honed the Dream Nail back to its true and beautiful form. I thought it was impossible, but that little bug, that tenacious little bug became the Wielder that my tribe had been waiting for.”</p><p>Hornet sighed heavily and closed her eyes, tucking her chin into the wide collar of her cloak. She could feel pressure building up behind her eyes and she forced it down with another deep breath and the force of her will. After she could trust her voice not to shake, she stood and placed her needle back in its sheath.</p><p>“Well…thank you anyway.” Hornet said quietly. “Are you alright, out here all by yourself?”</p><p>“Quite so, child. Spare only a stray thought for me. My duties are here, and here I will stay until I am no longer needed.” The old moth gave her a smile. “Worry not. Your journey will lead you to what you seek. You just have to keep moving forward. There are things set into motion now that even I cannot see clearly, but you, you are just as touched by destiny as your void born siblings.” </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Deep Dark</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is a long one, folks, and here comes the non-canon lore. Hope you enjoy what I've come up with! I can provide further notes about my concepts later if anyone is confused, but hopefully I did an alright job of making it understandable. Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Your form! Exquisite!”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>They stopped their movement with a simple, well angled slide of their foot. They steadied their breathing as they snapped their nail back into its sheath with a wicked precision. The Nailmaster was looking down at them with pride gleaming in his eyes, his face stretched around a grin that they didn’t quite know how to respond to. It made them feel something, something warm and almost fuzzy, something that made them want to smile back. So they did.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Now I know how my own master felt when he passed his teachings down to us! I hope you don’t think me too forward when I say I consider you to be my child! Yes!” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The words hit somewhere deep. They stared up at their teacher in awe and wonder. The enthusiasm and raw passion was unlike anything they’d experienced before. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You honor me beyond words, my pupil. Thank you.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Sat together in silence, the master and the pupil, the Little Ghost had tried to meditate as suggested, but they found themself unable to stop thinking. To stop feeling the pulse of pride matching the beating of their tiny heart. But beneath that was a cold pit, an uncertainty and a worry. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Had the Pale King ever made the Pure Vessel feel this way? Had he been proud of his creation…or had the burden been shouldered with no softness at all?</em>
</p>
<p>~~~</p>
<p>"You poor dear. You have indeed suffered greatly, Burdened Vessel.”</p>
<p>The Confessor’s voice was the only anchor for Hollow to cling to as the ritual came to a close. She had been right. The Expression of Regrets had not been an easy or enjoyable task. In fact, Hollow was certain the only thing that rivaled it had been the feeling of focusing the Radiance into their body. Even they hadn’t truly realized just how much had been buried beneath the surface — agonies hidden to make themself worthy of the reverence that came with their responsibility. It seemed ridiculous now to not have noticed how difficult it had all been. How their life had been so unfair. </p>
<p>“It is over now.” Confessor Jiji’s hand on their shell was like a prick of ice on their overheated carapace. “Breathe. Let the last of it flow out of you and drift away. You do not have to wear your stains anymore.”</p>
<p>Hollow shuddered and sobbed. Their body was sore from lying against the unforgiving stone, puddles of void beneath their head and joints where the sorrow and regret had been drawn out like pus from a wound. They tried to do as they’d been told, drawing in deep breaths and releasing them, and each one came easier than the last. Finally, they were able to get their arm beneath them and sit up. They felt many pounds lighter. </p>
<p>“There you are…” Jiji gave them a pat and then drew her hands back. “You’re already looking much brighter. Good, good.” Her eyes squinted from beneath her head-wrap. “…Hm.”</p>
<p>Hollow met her gaze tiredly and signed out a quick “what?” with shaky fingers. </p>
<p>“…you are-…” Jiji brought her hands to her face, chittering as she fidgeted with the collar of her robe uncertainly. “…there is something clinging to you. Not a stain, no, but something. A thread? A tendril? With something, no, some<em>one</em>, on the other end. A tiny creature but much like you.”</p>
<p>“<em>What? Can you see them?</em>” Hollow’s signs were so quick that Jiji nearly missed them. </p>
<p>“Not like what you may imagine. It is too dark for me to see them clearly.” Jiji replied. “But your connection to them is unshakeable. Strange. Perhaps their regrets match to yours. If you find them, I would be willing to help them as well.”</p>
<p>“L-Little creature-” Hollow forced their voice out in a panic, leaning forward on their hand so that they could get closer to the Confessor. “-still <span class="pwa-mark decorator">al</span>-alive? Can find?”</p>
<p>“I imagine so, Burdened Vessel, if you know where to look.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>When Hollow emerged from the cave they found that Dirtmouth looked a little bit less dreary. The lumafly lamps were a little bit brighter and the sky above, though still shaded with grey clouds, seemed a bit more peaceful than before. They crossed the graveyard to get back into town, pausing for a moment to look down the old well, and started looking around for their sister. When they reached the plaza, Hornet came running out of their temporary residence.</p>
<p>“Hollow! Are you alright!?” She reached for them, looking them over for any injuries. “It’s been two days, what on earth did that bug do to you!?”</p>
<p>Hollow stared at her in shock, “…two days?”</p>
<p>“I went to check on you and found the door locked,” Hornet explained, circling them once as if to be sure they weren’t missing any other limbs. Hollow managed to catch her arm in their hand and give a comforting squeeze.</p>
<p>“…am o-okay. I think-…think it was good. And more.” They released her and lifted their hand between them. “<em>I think I have a lead on where to look for Little Ghost, but you cannot follow.</em>” </p>
<p>Hornet looked like she was going to argue but she paused before any words left her. She frowned up at them, “…the Abyss?” Hollow nodded. Hornet’s frown deepened. “…alright. I’m still coming with you-” she held up her hand to stop them from protesting. “-at least as far as the entrance. I’ve been to the edge of that pit, I know what my limits are and how long I can linger close to that raw void. I don’t know what you’re going to find down there, so please, allow me to be as close by as possible.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>It had been thanks to the Little Ghost that the Palace Stag Station had been opened again. It had been the first shuttered when the Pale King had sealed off the capitol in an attempt to halt the spread of the Infection — not that it had been used much before. The main function of the station had been transporting spools of spider silk from Deepnest to the White Palace, and that was evidenced by the stock that had been abandoned along the station platform. When everything had started to fall apart, record-keeping hadn’t been at the front of anyone’s mind. </p>
<p>The Sentinel and the Vessel crossed the Palace Grounds together. The White Palace had once stood there, spires and towers reaching towards the ceiling of the cavern it had been constructed in. Like its ruler it had glowed with pale light, whites and silvers, gleaming and shimmering like a star that had crashed down into the earth. Now, the entire structure was gone, save the door that had once led into the great hall. Beyond was just rubble and smooth stone. It looked as though the entire structure had been scooped from its foundations and vanished.</p>
<p>The two of them paused in front of the detached door. On the floor was a Kingsmould — the void construct inanimate and leaking through its armor, tendrils snaking into the earth beneath it. The cavern seemed impossibly vast without the palace filling it out, a yawning maw of rock and fossil overflowing with silence and grief.</p>
<p>“…miss him.” Hollow said quietly. </p>
<p>Hornet squeezed their hand, “…me too.” </p>
<hr/>
<p>The Abyss had been sealed after Hollow had reached the peak of the chamber and followed their sire out of the dark. The door was broken now, and the entrance looked like a rip in the fabric of space. Hornet hadn’t been there since she’d watched Little Ghost climb back up, their pitch black form almost vibrating, something irrevocably and undeniably changed about them. She didn’t know if it was because of their connection to that place or if it was that they’d discovered something down there. She couldn’t hazard a guess. The Abyss wasn’t for bugs like her. </p>
<p>Hornet slung her needle off her back and made sure the sheath was buckled around it securely. With the same quickness and certainty, she created that makeshift pulley — her needle acting as the anchor, her spool undone, the thread a seat for Hollow to steady themself in. Hollow was strong despite still recovering from their time in the Black Egg and the ritual with the Confessor, but their reflexes and stamina were taking their time. At their best, they would have been able to make the journey down and up again, but Hornet wanted to be extra safe.</p>
<p>“You be careful, okay?” she said, watching Hollow test the thread around their waist before easing themself off the platform. The thread held tight in a loop like a swing, supporting Hollow’s legs and giving them a hand-hold. “Three tugs and I’ll start the spool to get you back up here. Don’t take any risks.” </p>
<p>Hollow signed their agreement before Hornet clicked the mechanism on the spool and, with a little lurch, they began to descend into the depths of the Abyss.</p>
<p>It was dark. Of course it was dark. Hollow’s eyes adjusted as they steadily sunk lower into the nearly impenetrable blackness that seemed never-ending. They worried that they’d run out of thread before they reached the bottom — but luckily, the ground came into view and Hollow set their feet down. The floor was stone and fossil and —</p>
<p>Hollow shuddered and gasped sharply, eyes widening at the sight. The floor was covered in chitin and flaky, decaying wing membranes. A thousand tiny faces stared back at them, large empty eyes and broken bodies, all of them strangers and yet so incredibly familiar. They put their hand to their mouth. They wanted to wretch but there was nothing to come up and they wouldn’t dare further desecrate this place. Everywhere they looked the despair was inescapable. The cast-offs of the circumstances of their hatching, those left behind when Hollow had been the first to reach the entrance to this dark, hellish birthplace, here they had languished and withered while Hollow had basked in the light of their sire. While they had enjoyed the taste of food, felt the pride of a learned skill, felt the love of their parents — these tiny Vessels had remained locked away, forgotten, labeled regret and refuse. </p>
<p>Somewhere in the recesses of their mind, Hollow had known. </p>
<p>But how does one cope with such a harsh and unforgiving truth?</p>
<p>Hollow tried to swallow back the visceral sensation of grief and guilt, but it lodged in their throat and threatened to choke them. The world tilted. They remembered, so suddenly that their feet nearly slipped out from beneath them, looking back and seeing another Vessel clinging to the edge of the platform. They were nearly free, their wings buzzing furiously, their body trembling with the effort of hauling themself over that final obstacle. Hollow had stared at them, no more than six feet away, so close and yet so far, and had offered no help. They had turned their back, followed their sire out of the Abyss, watched the great door seal shut. </p>
<p>They had known, had seen them, that Little Ghost, and had done nothing.</p>
<p>Hollow clawed at their cracked shell as the pit of regrets and pain opened up anew as if the Confessor had freshly coaxed them free. They’d faced it, coped, resigned themself to knowing that their life had always been a cruel facsimile — but beneath that was the knowledge that, in some ways, they had been lucky. </p>
<p>A small orb of shadow lifted from the scattered refuse. It swirled and shifted and finally unfolded into a familiar shape — large head, upturned horns, and large eyes that were a searing, blistering white against the deep dark of its body. Hollow stumbled back from it as another joined it, and another, the number swelling until they were nearly surrounded. The shades blinked and whispered, a cluster of tiny voices, hovering and bumping against each other as they examined the Vessel in front of them.</p>
<p>
  <em>You, it’s you? You’ve returned? You’ve come back?</em>
</p>
<p>Hollow choked out an apology that sounded more like a croak of pain. They wanted to reach for the thread beside them, to yank it sharply and have Hornet lift them out of this — but wouldn’t it be fitting to find their end here among the Siblings they had so readily abandoned? No, they couldn’t turn away from this. Not again.</p>
<p>
  <em>You, you, sibling, sibling, here-</em>
</p>
<p>Hollow finally managed to parse some of the whispers, shuddering and shivering as the shades hovered in closer. </p>
<p>
  <em>You came, you came. Sibling. Our Sibling. You’re here. You’ve returned.</em>
</p>
<p>There was no malice in those small, quiet voices. Surprise, joy, even gratitude, but no malice. Hollow felt hot tears building in their eyes, felt them ooze thickly down their shell. They hid their face in the crook of their arm.</p>
<p>“N-No, no-” Hollow’s voice seemed exceptionally strained, clogged up with grief and guilt and relief. “Y-You can’t…can’t speak like <span class="pwa-mark decorator">th</span>-that…you can’t-” They couldn’t stop shaking and finally they sank to their knees, wanting to be small and unseen by these ghosts. “C-Cannot…we-welcome me, no-…cannot f-forgive-”</p>
<p>The shades ignored their siblings’ protests. They clustered around them, their voices mixing together like a gust of wind through a crack in a window pane. Hollow sobbed as they covered them like a thick blanket. It was the closest they could get to embracing them. </p>
<p>
  <em>Sibling, sibling, here with us. Came back. Dear sibling. Do not cry. Our sibling, come home. You came home. Came back. Thank you, thank you-</em>
</p>
<p>“I’m sorry-!” Hollow pressed their face to the ground, to one of the many broken shells beneath them. “I’m s-so sorry!” </p>
<p>It seemed like hours before Hollow had cried themself empty. It was impossible to judge the passage of time in the depths. Eventually, with the shades of their siblings still crowded around, they hauled themself back to their feet. They looked around at all the faces, both the pale ones scattered on the ground and the void-dark ones hovering around them. After Hollow had taken a few steadying breaths, the Siblings began to herd them. It was a gentle push, leading Hollow across the uneven earth with little bumps and expectant pauses. Hollow didn’t know what they wanted but they wouldn’t dare refuse. </p>
<p>A structure loomed out of the dark, unmistakably a lighthouse, but no light shone through the windows at the peak. Hollow had little time to examine it as the Siblings pushed them to the edge of a dock that speared out over a vast lake of pure raw void. Though it was impossibly dark at the bottom of the Abyss the lake was somehow indescribably darker — a black that swallowed even the thought of light, stretching out before Hollow like some great absence of something. The stillness of the mimicry of water was uncomfortable but it didn’t stay that way for long. </p>
<p>The surface bubbled, then it thrashed, then it surged. Hollow stared in a mix of horror and awe as the liquid, was it liquid?, rose in a column of twisting tendrils all joining and separating in a frantic dance. Finally those tendrils tangled together and a shape formed, six blistering white eyes opening and peering down at Hollow. A massive hand landed on the dock, threatening to crush it down into the void, and Hollow realized that they were looking up at the same horrifying Void Entity they’d seen in their not-dreams.</p>
<p>Hollow didn’t even have time to get their hand to their nail. The monster wrapped one fist around them and the surface of the lake came rushing up to meet them. </p>
<hr/>
<p>There was no barrier that separated them from the void. </p>
<p>Hollow couldn’t move, couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe. The void covered them over, wrapped around them, filled them until they thought their shell would burst — and it did. They let out a garbled cry as the void erupted out of their left shoulder socket, splitting the more fragile chitin open with a force that was painfully familiar. It throbbed, burned, pulled, stung — and then the void morphed, smoothed, matched up the symmetry, and when Hollow hit the cold, tacky ground they had both arms to catch themself. </p>
<p>They remained curled up on the floor for a while, remembering how to breathe and afraid to open their eyes. When they did it was still dark, no surprise there, but not too dark to see. They were in another cavern. It was fairly large but the ceiling was low and the walls pulsed and oozed with void that snaked about like ivy. Hollow picked themself up off the ground, extending their left arm in front of them and examining it carefully. It was like it had never been lost and they had no idea what to make of it. Though the questions of how and why lingered, the most pressing question was about the Void Entity and where they had taken them. </p>
<p>Hollow slowly walked the length of the cavern. They realized slowly that it was bug-made, not completely natural, though everything seemed like it had been grown from the rock rather than chipped away. It held the same shapes and shine as the tunnels of the Ancient Basin — the strange sepia tones of rock and dirt and unknown metal. The only exception was the occasional stretch that was decorated by pitch black pillars, triangular and severe in their carving, looming wide behind empty soul totems. The cavern narrowed into a tunnel and then widened again into a different, larger chamber that sported a large, black jewel in the center of the floor. As Hollow approached it, it grumbled and shuddered, and a fresh wave of void spread from it to coat the floor. It washed past Hollow’s legs like no more than water but when it reached the walls, it crashed against them softly and climbed up the sheer surfaces. It traveled until it reached the partner jewel anchored in the ceiling, where it was promptly absorbed with a quiet hiss.</p>
<p>In the wake of the void, the walls were teeming with previously hidden runes, sketches, and letters. Hollow had never seen any of them before but somehow they knew how to read them. It was a story, no, a history — an account from the ancient civilization that had existed in this place long before the Great <span class="pwa-mark decorator">Wyrm</span> had shed his shell at the Kingdom’s Edge. The Pale King had discussed them briefly because there wasn’t much to go on, just the knowledge that they had built what existed in the Ancient Basin, they created the soul totems, and they worshipped the void itself. </p>
<p>Hollow walked the edge of the chamber to take in every carving and try to piece it all together. It wasn’t easy. Even if they could understand it, the structure of the ancient language was difficult to parse. Near the end of the story was a much larger carving. It showed a strange creature with many large eyes, broad wings, many tendril-like arms, and a collection of fierce horns. It was wholly unfamiliar — until Hollow continued and found themself looking at a recreation of that creature being split into two. </p>
<p>They reached out and touched the wall timidly. Hollow felt drawn in by the unknown figure. Behind them, the black jewel grumbled and pulsed out another wave of soft void. It whispered — not with the voices of their Siblings, but with its own, a layer of various tones and lilts. It was calling. Persuading. Asking. Pleading? Hollow couldn’t tell. It beat against the wall gently and flowed upwards again, whisking past Hollow’s hand, parting around it like smoke. They slowly backed away to observe the etching one more time before turning to face the jewel again. The whispers strengthened as they approached it. </p>
<p>Hollow leaned over the jewel and nearly leaped back when they saw their own reflection. Void didn’t refract any light, couldn’t act as a mirror, but this void gem definitely was. They leaned again to examine themself — strong, sleek horns, upturned eye sockets, the jagged crack across the top of their shell. As they stared into their own eyes it felt like…like something else was staring back. That wasn’t quite right. It was as if there was more than just themself behind their eyes, if they looked to deeply they could gaze past themself and see something, someone?, else. It was a frightening thought and they quickly leaned away.</p>
<p>Or, they wanted to. When they tried, their body refused to obey them. Their own gaze had trapped them in place and not even their unnatural voice would come when they tried to yell. Void welled up in the back of their throat, it oozed out between their teeth, tasteless and thick. It was a horrifying sight, stuck staring at themself as void bled from their eyes and the crack in their forehead. And the gem was still whispering. </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Do not fear. I will not harm you. You are part of me.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>The voice was unfamiliar, layered but distinctly feminine, or not?, containing a multitude of tones and lilts and accents. Hollow coughed, spluttered, realized they were free from the paralysis that had suddenly taken them. When their throat was clear they struggled to speak.</p>
<p>“Wh-…Who-?”</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Many. You. Them. Myself. No one. </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>“A-Answer plainly!” </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>I will show you. You need to know, so that you can understand. </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>The jewel pulsed again but this time the void didn’t pass Hollow by, it covered over them like a thick blanket and knocked them off their feet. It was heavy, oppressive even, but they could still breathe, could still move — the void wrapped around them almost carefully, almost lovingly. They blinked, and the blackness was gone, replaced with cloudy skies and thin, watery light. They were stood atop a tall peak with a valley spread out beneath them. The image shifted and they were surrounded by the complex particles of Essence, the physical embodiment of dreams and wishes. </p>
<p>Before them stood that creature, that great and terrible entity rendered on the wall of the chamber they’d been standing in before. Hollow watched the creature split, crack, break down the center. It made no sound as the halves of it sloughed off, spewing bright blue fluid into the air. Wherever the liquid struck cloud or ground, brilliant butterfly shaped plants sprouted up almost instantly. Was it instant? Or was time zipping past them here?</p>
<p>Hollow watched the two halves of the broken creature reformed — both intensely familiar in a way that almost made the Vessel scream. The cast off wings spread wide from a pale, fuzzy body, and the pitch black innards stretched and unfurled tendrils of void and shadow. </p>
<p>A shift. The two entities bargaining. One to rule the Dreams, one to rule the Waking. One above and one deep below. Moths are Light-Born, Centipedes are Void-Born. Two civilizations growing, flourishing. </p>
<p>A shift. Greed corrupts. The centipedes want to expand up into the tunnels and caverns that will one day be Hallownest, but a Dream Plague strikes them down. The Obscurity confronts the Radiance. The bond between sisters is cut. The Void can no longer reach the Dream and is plunged into the depths.</p>
<p>A shift. The last of the dying Void-Born cry out in despair to their lost goddess. The cast off shell of the Coherence, once both of Her children and now neither, still holding a drop of Lifeblood, hears the call. It is corrupted by anger and fear. It beats like a heart when it tears itself from the Dream and burns away in scarlet flame. From the heart is born a child with blood that runs red and not blue.</p>
<p>A shift. The Light scorches. A quiet mother dreams of green paths, a pale root sprouts from a small seed. </p>
<p>A shift. The Great <span class="pwa-mark decorator">Wyrm</span> burrows into the eastern mountain and the Pale King is born of a fragile egg from within. Eyes turn. Pale Light does not scorch. Pale Light glimmers, outshines. The Radiance experiences Her own foul game. </p>
<p>The images move faster now, for Hollow doesn’t need to see what they already know. The rise and fall of Hallownest plays out in rapid speed but careens to a halt when the eggs of the Pale King and White Lady are dropped into the Abyss. The Void stirs, cradles these offerings, takes away their brilliant pale shine. Tendrils penetrate the shells and the offspring inside are irreparably changed. One egg finally hatches, and Hollow watches their own tiny form escape from its slimy inside. They stumble blindly and fan their wings until they start that treacherous climb — and then, Little Ghost, from the same egg, forcing their way out but entangled by the stillborn still trapped within. Just a few minutes apart. </p>
<p>A shift. Little Ghost escapes the Abyss and loses themself to the wastes. Their mind is eroded to primality until they are called to return to their homeland by the scream of a trapped goddess. </p>
<p>A shift. Little Ghost learns. Little Ghost hates. Little Ghost is Heart and Mind and Focus. Little Ghost finds the <span class="pwa-mark decorator">Godseeker</span>. Little Ghost-</p>
<p>The images fade and leave Hollow blinking into the dark again. They feel a little sick, a little cold, but they’re back in the chamber with the strange jewel and the quiet voice. </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>You see. You understand. </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Before Hollow now was that hulking, terrifying form, all six eyes trained on them. But behind them was a faint outline of a familiar shape — large head, curved horns, wide circular eyes. They had been there all along. Little Ghost, part of, within, the new Obscurity.</p>
<p>“…Ghost…” Hollow wanted to reach out, wanted to make sure they were real, but they kept still and steady.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Yes. And others. That’s what we are. All the pieces make up Us. When the eggs hatched in the depths, all of us became a piece of that dead goddess. She was no longer truly alive but I woke Her when I learned of this history and agreed to shoulder Her burden.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>“You-…k-killed Radiance. Freed me. Freed H-Hallownest.” Hollow twisted their hands together anxiously. “P-Please, come-”</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Not yet. </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Hollow flinched when they were cut off. They stared at the Obscurity in question.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>You came down here to find me. I’m grateful. But I cannot leave the Abyss yet. There is still work to be done, and I need your help. But before you can help me, I must help you. </em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>The Obscurity flickered and shifted, moving gracefully through the dark that it was almost one and the same with.</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em>Go to the Junk Pit, east of the Royal Waterways, below the City of Tears. You will find what you need.</em>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>Hollow wanted to speak more, wanted to apologize or maybe beg for them to change their mind, but the void smothered over them before they could even intake a breath. They were drowning again, thrashing and struggling, until they were pressed against cold, hard floor. The dock at the edge of the void lake. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Hornet was nearly beside herself when she finally felt the tugs on her thread.</p>
<p>She willed the spool to wind faster as she waited impatiently, relief flooding her when Hollow’s hand gripped the edge of the platform — followed by confusion when a second joined it. Hornet stared in confusion as Hollow hauled themself up and started to detangle themself from the thread. </p>
<p>“<span class="pwa-mark decorator">Wha</span>-…your-…Your arm, how-?”</p>
<p>“L-Long story, will tell.” Hollow assured her.</p>
<p>They rested together at the Palace Station and Hornet took her time inspecting Hollow’s left shoulder. She was amazed to find that it wasn’t a completely regrown appendage, but a sort of cast that had been anchored onto the joint. She could slip her fingers under the edge and she was sure, if she pulled hard enough, the void-made prosthetic would pop right off. Hornet kept most of her marveling to herself while Hollow signed out what they had experienced below. They had to improvise quite a few signs and struggle to speak them aloud in order to get the entire story out. Hornet was patient with them as they recounted the last hour from the moment they’d set their feet down at the bottom of the Abyss to the moment they’d hauled themself back out.</p>
<p>Hornet was amazed, to put it lightly. The idea of Hallownest being a holy ground long before the Pale King had claimed it, the idea of the Kingdom’s undoing and salvation had once been the same deity, the idea that their sibling — that all of the Vessels — were part of some greater whole lurking down below. It was a lot to take in and though Hornet wished she too could see the runes and carvings that told the story of their home, she had to trust Hollow’s retelling. The void would never welcome her, sister to the Vessels or not.</p>
<p>The quickest way to the Junk Pit was through a back-way beneath Nailsmith’s old smithy. The Old Stag dropped them off at the King’s Station and the two of them crossed the city proper without trouble. Hollow finally got to see the city in its current state, blue water dribbling down from the ceiling high above to drench everything below. It was cold, dreary even, but as they stood before the fountain that acted as a memorial to them, their sacrifice and those of the Dreamers, Hollow found that they enjoyed the rain. </p>
<p>The Junk Pit was exactly what one would expect. Water gushed from the labyrinth of pipes beneath the city and out into the pit. It smelled of rain, metal, and the distant acidity of the Fungal Wastes. The refuse had created a shoreline where more junk accumulated, and it didn’t take long for the two of them to see something distinctly out of place. Lying at the water’s edge was a large, chubby body half wrapped in a slowly spreading cocoon. As they neared it they realized that the bug was still alive, chattering incessantly, choking on black fluid that was leaking from their eyes and mouth and the seams of their carapace. </p>
<p>Hollow recognized two things — one, the black fluid was undeniably void, and two, the bug was wearing the golden mask that they had seen in their memory-dreams. </p>
<p>“Oh, God of Gods, thank you, thank you, you bless Us with your presence, your great power-” The bug continued to babble as her cocoon engulfed her, smothering her voice into whimpers and then silence. The chrysalis hardened with a final shimmer before Hornet and Hollow were standing before nothing more than an inanimate casing. </p>
<p>“Well. I wish I had answers for what just happened.” Hornet said with a grimace, leaning down to touch the cocoon. It was warm under her palm but, as expected, it didn’t react. </p>
<p>Hollow signed their agreement and started looking around, trying to spot anything else odd scattered within the piles of junk. Something glinted blue and caught their eye, a brilliant color against the tarnished silvers and coppers. It was a charm, humming with the magic of its power. With a jolt of excitement they started to look around more thoroughly, shoving and overturning junk. Surely the rest of Little Ghost’s belongings were near. </p>
<p>They lifted a large trunk and barely had the time to react to the sight of two blazing scarlet eyes glaring up at them. They were set upon in a flash, needle-like teeth gnashing against the hand that clutched the charm, forcing Hollow to release it. They yelped and stumbled back, nearly tripping into the water, and the creature nabbed the charm in its mouth and dashed back into its hiding place. </p>
<p>Hornet rushed over with a few nimble hops and helped Hollow back to their feet. The injury to Hollow’s hand was minimal, though it had been their real one, not the void prosthetic. Rotten luck. </p>
<p>They ambushed the tiny creature together this time, Hollow lifting the trunk and Hornet using her thread to bind its wings to its grub-like body. When they could get a proper look at it neither were sure what to make of it at first— sleek black horns, white shell, red and black carapace, and terrifyingly bright scarlet eyes that dominated its face. The grub struggled, growling and thrashing against the thread but unable to get free. It screeched its frustration and belched a scalding sphere of red flame, making both of them jump back. Beneath the grub was a smorgasbord of items — charms, a cloak, a tram pass, a cracked lantern, a map, a strange golden device — a little hoard under a littler dragonfly. </p>
<p>“Ah.” Hornet said suddenly, recognition lighting in her eyes. “…I know you, though last I saw you, you were much tinier and much less intimidating. You’ve grown considerably.” </p>
<p>“Know too.” Hollow said, kneeling down in front of the angry creature. “…N-Nightmare child. Born from s-sorrow and…rage. S-Scarlet Heart.” </p>
<p>The child whipped its head around, snarling at Hollow as they reached out towards them. It snapped at Hollow’s fingers, but Hollow avoided it and cupped their hand under the grub’s chin.</p>
<p>“L-Little Nightmare, no h-harm will come. Siblings, in s-some way, us two.” </p>
<p>“Strange to think of that,” Hornet watched the bound child relax into Hollow’s touch, big eyes blinking up at them in sudden realization. “I saw this little one with Ghost a few times. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to find him guarding all of Ghost’s belongings. The Grimmchild, he’s called.” </p>
<p>Hollow kept their hand on the child as Hornet released him from the thread. Once he was free, he fluttered his wings and chirped questioningly Hollow, eyes welling up with fat red tears. </p>
<p>“Where, where?” the Grimmchild’s voice was a small, grating squeak. It wasn’t difficult to understand that he was asking about his previous caretaker. </p>
<p>“Not g-gone.” Hollow replied, scooping them in both of their hands and bringing them close. “W-Will bring back. Stay, for now.” </p>
<p>Grimmchild chittered softly, sadly, but allowed himself to be cradled and held. With the guardian of the hoard placated, Hornet sifted through the pile and, beneath the mothwing cloak, found a strange talisman. It was like a nail hilt but just above the grip was a disk, etched with lines to create the image of Essence. She examined it questioningly for a few moments before focusing her Soul into the half-blade. The disk flared to life and, with a sharp hum, a blade of Soul and Essence burst forth. It was so bright that it was difficult to look at and nearly as long as Hornet’s needle. </p>
<p>“…this is it. The Dream Nail.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Breaking Seals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>The room was quiet, but not oppressively so. It was a gentle quiet. A comforting quiet. Maybe even a loving quiet. The Seals of Binding that stretched over Herrah’s body hummed softly with a song the Little Ghost couldn’t quite understand. That harmonious voices of every Weaver who had assisted in its creation whispered through the air and sometimes, every once in a while, they thought that they could pull apart the threads to parse the words. Beneath those whispers was the soft, steady breathing of the sleeping Dreamer. Peaceful despite being a prisoner. Peaceful despite the devastation around her. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>This was Hornet’s mother. Little Ghost knew that. They knew that the two of them hadn’t been able to spend much time together before Herrah the Beast had needed to make good on her part of her bargain. There was a tang of bitterness on the back of their tongue. It shouldn’t have been like this. Hornet should have been able to grow up with her mother. The Vessels had never been granted that option either, but Little Ghost felt little pity for themself — just sorrow for what could have been, for all parties involved. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>They didn’t want to continue like this. There had to be another way. In this devastated kingdom, more death didn’t feel like the answer. The Seals were holding even as their sibling weakened. They wouldn’t have much time, but Ghost stood from their seat at the foot of the stone plinth and looked down at the Dream Nail in their hand. No. No more of this. They’d find a way, any way, to make this right.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>With a determined buzz of their wings, the Little Ghost made their way out of the Beast’s Den, too focused to realize the figure in the shadows even in her bright red cloak. Hornet watched the Vessel go in confusion and relief. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>Hornet fitfully organized all of Ghost’s belongings into one of the dresser drawers. Once they’d returned to Dirtmouth with the Grimmchild, the two siblings had finally done a little bit of cleaning up in the house that had become Hollow’s. They dusted and bought some new bedding and curtains from Sly, and though that wasn’t much in the grand scheme it had made the little place feel more comfortable. </p>
<p>Grimmchild refused to let either of them out of his sight. His favorite spot seemed to be between one of the sibling’s horns, wings draped and wrapped over Hornet’s and Hollow’s shell almost protectively. It had only taken a single incident for the two of them to scold the grub into not spitting fire at anyone who got too close. In his travels with Ghost, Grimmchild had met far more foes than friends and needed to be told the difference. </p>
<p>Once Ghost’s things were safely stored away, other than the Dream Nail, Hornet got all of them something to eat. The Grimmchild turned his nose up at anything that wasn’t burned to a crisp and made pretty horrific crunching noises as he chowed down on bug-meat that looked more like the refuse in a hearth than food. </p>
<p>“…well. I suppose I know what my mother must have felt like when I was just a grub.” Hornet said wryly, trying not to seem as disgusted as she felt. </p>
<p>Hollow snickered in response. </p>
<p>“I want to go back to Deepnest as soon as we can.” Hornet continued, her voice much quieter over these words. “I just-…I need to-”</p>
<p>Hollow reached over and smoothed a hand across Hornet’s shoulder. They nodded to her and Hornet sighed out her relief. She didn’t need to explain any further. She’d already been waiting and wanting and there wasn’t any point in making her endure that longer than necessary. Besides that, their other mission of finding Ghost was temporarily halted since they <em>had </em>found Ghost, technically, but had no clues on how to separate them from the Obscurity they’d become a part of. Out of what they had decided to tell Hollow, that detail had not been among them. That could come later. There was no danger from the Radiance anymore and there was no danger in a void-born being within the void. </p>
<p>The most important step to take now was to reunite Hornet with her mother.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Hollow insisted that they wait outside with Grimmchild while Hornet went to wake her mother. Despite wanting to officially meet Herrah the Beast, they knew it would be important for Hornet to have space to reconnect. They knew it was what Hornet wanted even if she would never have asked. </p>
<p>Hornet gripped the Dream Nail tightly as she stood before her mother’s resting place. Part of her was excited, but there was a yawning fear in her chest as well. Was it because she wasn’t sure if the Seal would actually break? Or was it that time had muddied her memories of Herrah, that her mother would not be what she remembered? It was a risk she was willing to take. She focused her Soul through the hilt of the nail and, when it sprang to life with a ring and a flash of light, she slashed the ethereal blade through the threads of the Seal of Binding.</p>
<p>The silk tore, the songs and spells stored within slowly fading into silence as it drifted to the floor and fell limp along the length of Herrah’s body. Hornet stood there tensely, practically vibrating in place, waiting even though she wanted to shake her mother awake. Wanted to make sure that she was truly here. It could have been hours before Herrah stirred. Behind her mask, her eyes cracked open, clouded with the years of sleep she was finally waking from. For a moment her breath quickened in fear — never again had she expected to wake and the truth of the waking world brought many terrible possibilities. But then her gaze shifted and lit upon the figure standing by the plinth.</p>
<p>“…Hornet? Is that you, my child?”</p>
<p>Hornet felt tears welling up in her eyes. The sound of her mother’s voice after so long was enough to shake her to her core. “…it’s me, mother.”</p>
<p>Herrah shifted carefully, body stiff and sore, pushing herself into a sitting position. She stared at her daughter for several long moments, the silence unbearable as mother looked upon a child so suddenly grown up. Herrah reached out slowly. She was weak from her slumber and her fingers trembled as they stroked Hornet’s cheek, following the smooth chitin all the way up the graceful curve of her horn.</p>
<p>“…look at you. I knew you would grow into a beautiful young bug, but seeing you now, you are much more than I could have dreamed.” Herrah’s voice held both pride and sorrow. Pride for her child’s state of strength, sorrow of the missed years of her childhood. “Perhaps I am still dreaming. It would be difficult for me to tell.”</p>
<p>“Y-You’re not dreaming.” Hornet assured her, smiling as the tears finally escaped and flowed freely down her shell. She threw herself at her mother, hugging her tightly, weeping openly in relief when she was circled in an embrace as firm as Herrah could manage. “Your duty is over. But worry not, the Dream Plague no longer ravages the land of Hallownest. We’ll explain everything.”</p>
<p>Herrah’s voice turned questioning, “We?”</p>
<p>“Yes. I’ll introduce you.” </p>
<p>When Herrah saw Hollow, it was obvious that it took her a moment to understand who she was looking at. Despite the sort of omniscience she’d had during her enchanted sleep, she hadn’t been able to see everything — and since The Hollow Knight had left the Black Egg, everything had been dark. She’d only seen Hollow a handful of times soon after they’d been brought up from the depths and seeing them now, with their towering height, cracked shell, and prosthetic arm caused the weight of the years that had passed to settle heavily over Herrah’s shoulders. Despite Hollow’s growth being unnatural and enhanced, she had Hornet as a better example of the passage of time.</p>
<p>Hornet introduced them officially, Hollow the Freed Vessel and Herrah the Spider Queen, and together they sat and told Herrah of all that had happened since her eyes had gone dark. Hornet told her mother about the state of Hallownest, the disappearance of the Pale King, the fate of their distant village. Hollow picked up where she left off, a mix of speaking and signing to explain their discoveries down in the Abyss as well as their understanding of Ghost’s interactions with the <span class="pwa-mark decorator">Godseeker</span> and how they had defeated the Absolute Radiance. </p>
<p>“I see…so another Vessel escaped from the depths and found a way to banish the Light-that-Hates for good.” Herrah’s voice was quiet, thoughtful. “I knew there was a possibility that the Pale King’s plan was futile. Regardless of that, I could not refuse our bargain.” She reached again to affectionally stroke her daughter’s shell. “…it does not surprise me, Hollow, that you were unable to contain the Infection indefinitely. Do not blame yourself for failing what was an impossible and cruel task for any bug.” </p>
<p>Hollow grimaced and didn’t respond. Despite the assurances they’d gotten, despite the ritual with Confessor Jiji, that sting of failure was still present. It was too deep a splinter to be easily dug out. </p>
<p>“I did not agree with the method, but it was born of desperation, and what’s done is done. How we choose to move forward is what’s important now.” Herrah still sounded like a queen despite having been relieved of those duties when she had been wrapped in the binding seals. No doubt, had the Spider Tribe of Deepnest survived the Festerglow, she would have taken back her mantle without pause or regret. “It troubles me to hear that the Pale King is gone. Not simply dead, but vanished…despite our differences and our difficulties working alongside each other, the world is darker without him in it.”</p>
<p>The two pale children agreed.</p>
<p>“I suppose our next step is to free the other Dreamers and try to find a way to separate Ghost from the Obscurity.” Hornet looked at Hollow for confirmation, satisfied when they nodded. Grimmchild, perched between their horns and chittering softly as he slept, was lightly shaken awake. His scarlet eyes flicked about for a moment but found nothing interesting, so he huddled back down to continue to snooze. </p>
<p>“…that may be difficult.” Herrah said, “You know very little about the nature of this old goddess. Sister to the Radiance, She is likely just as dangerous as the Light Moth. Be mindful of what bargains you make with Her.”</p>
<p>“<em>Little Ghost is part of Her,</em>” Hollow signed with a frown. “<em>They are the Heart and Mind and Focus of Her. Little Ghost would not do us harm.</em>”</p>
<p>“Perhaps not, but being a piece of a whole is not the same as being the whole.” Herrah replied, her motherly concern evident in her voice and in her gaze. “If it is true that all the Vessels have become part of Her, then the Obscurity is made of many conflicting minds and must be dealt with cautiously. Regardless of that, if you wish to somehow extract your tiny sibling from the whole, they are going to need a new shell. The void-born Vessels cannot exist without one.” </p>
<p>The realization hit both Hollow and Hornet with the weight of a blow from a great-nail. They looked at each other, both shocked that neither of them had thought of that previous to now. Hollow had told them both about seeing Ghost’s shell split apart, the void that created their body surging and pulling more void from below, but it hadn’t occurred to them that it would need to be replaced. Hollow fitfully put a hand up to their shell, fingers feeling along the clean edges of the crack. Grimmchild sleepily snuffed at their knuckles and wiggled his head under them, demanding the touch be transferred. The distraction was welcome and Hollow readily focused on rubbing the space between Grimmchild’s eyes. His shell was a softer texture than their own.</p>
<p>“Then…I suppose that’s our next move.” Hornet said, breaking the terse silence. “Trying to find a new shell for Ghost. We can start right here in Deepnest. The Maskmaker might have an idea of what we can do.”</p>
<p>“It is good to hear that he withstood the Festerglow.” Herrah’s voice held both relief and sorrow. “You two, continue your efforts. I need more time to recover from the deep slumber. Worry not-” she held up her hand when Hornet went to protest. “-as you said, there is no danger anymore. My den has remained safe even when the Dream Plague destroyed our nest so thoroughly. I am awake and we have time, my little weaver. Your duties come first now.”</p>
<p>Hornet frowned unhappily but nodded, stepping forward to hug her mother again. They lingered like that for a while before Herrah finally urged Hornet on. </p>
<p>“You two take care of each other.” Herrah said to both of them. “This hallowed land, something is changing about it, and threads are wrapped around your fingers. I will see you soon.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. To Make a Shell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“We were so unfair, weren’t we? To cast you out.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Little Ghost blinked in surprise at the words spoken. The soft voice of their mother was clouded with not a small amount of grief, her milky blue eyes pressing shut against whatever painful thought momentarily took her.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Please, you must not hate him. He did what he thought was right, for the kingdom to live. There is shame I feel from my own part of the deed. These bindings, they assure that it will not continue. I still feel that desire, you see, to spread seeds across the land, to propagate myself. But my progeny was born into misery and cruelty. Never again.” She shook her head, just a little, her roots shifting in the ceiling of the cocoon with gentle rustles. “The Vessels shall be the first, the last, the only. You, little one, are what legacy my beloved </em>
  <span class="pwa-mark decorator">
    <em>Wyrm</em>
  </span>
  <em> and I could create. Your kin was our final hope. And now I must ask you to go beyond, to usurp the Vessel and prevent all minds from being relinquished to that pernicious plague. Forgive me.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Little Ghost looked down at the white fragment in their hands — half of a whole, alabaster white and much like a shard of an ancient mask, one deep eye-hole set beneath the elegant lines of a crest that mimicked an outstretched wing. It was warm to the touch and just slightly pliable, though too firm to harm. Betraying nothing, they bowed their head to their mother just slightly before turning and leaving the cocoon. They paused once they reached the entrance, breathing in the air that was heavy with moisture and the scent of life. Life that grew and curled and reclaimed the shell of the knight that had given her life to protect her queen. Ghost placed one little hand on Drya’s shell, feeling an exhausting sort of sorrow, and finally moved on. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The Maskmaker didn’t live far from the Distant Village. He had lived in the upper cavities of Deepnest for as long as Hornet could remember, and for as long as she could remember he had never left his quarters and he had never, ever stopped his endless task. His chamber was distinctly egg shaped, the entrance to which was considerably short and narrow. Hornet had to duck, Hollow nearly bent in half. The corridor widened into the larger space and Hollow realized that there was no way this bug was capable of coming and going from his own home. Unless there was some other exit.</p>
<p>The room was dominated by a massive desk, but strewn all around were dozens upon dozens of masks. They hung on the walls, leaned in corners, stacked up on racks, dangled from the ceiling. They were various shapes and sizes, different designs, some with many eye-holes, some with many horns, some with neither or both. The Maskmaker was a hulking bug with many thin, spindly arms that ended in narrow hands with long, nimble fingers. As always, they were busy, holding chisels and brushes and sanding stones and sharpeners, each hand working independently of each other on a different project. His own face, or was it a mask?, betrayed very little — perfectly round with five eye-holes so deep and black that his eyes were not visible behind them.</p>
<p>Hollow felt intimidated, though Hornet walked up to the desk with no measure of trepidation. The Maskmaker didn’t stop, didn’t even pause, though his head did swivel in her direction.</p>
<p>“Little spider, little weaver, little needle, do you need something from me? Never have you taken a face, a mask, from me, but never have you brought other visitors, so today must be a particular day.” He spoke as quickly as his hands worked.</p>
<p>“You make masks for any of the kingdom’s faceless,” Hornet said, her eyes wandering over the works-in-progress laid out across the desk between them. “A sibling of mine is in need of a new shell. Do you think you could make one?”</p>
<p>“A shell? Oh, no, little princess, no.” The Maskmaker picked up one of the masks, finished now that it had been painted. It was a crisp, warm ivory, so smooth it didn’t quite look real. “Not for the one you speak of. No. Your sibling, your birth-cursed sibling, they have neither mask nor face, not like us, not like you, not like me. My aid given for a world deserving but I cannot give what I do not have, cannot, cannot.” </p>
<p>“I don’t understand,” Hornet sighed a bit as she reached and took the finished mask from him. She walked it to the nearest wall and hung it up amongst the others. By the time she’d returned to the counter, the Maskmaker had taken a fresh hunk of wood from beneath it and started shaping it into a fresh face. “The masks you make can very nearly become one with the chitin of those who wear them. Why should a shell be any different?” </p>
<p>Hollow watched the strange bug work with a sort of fascination. He was fast, incredibly efficient, every move precise and unhesitant. In many ways it was like watching a Nailmaster during a battle. It was always a treat to see a bug so confident with their tools and so familiar with their own hands that they made tasks seem easy, even effortless. </p>
<p>“Making a shell is a possibility,” the Maskmaker conceded, “But nothing I create would be enough for the one you seek to separate from the great deep dark down below. Just a bug, me. Just a bug. What created you, what created them, what created the lost one, was made of more, so much more, such that I could never dream to shape, no, I could never shape it. No common bug are they below, but born of something more than chitin and flesh and carapace and membrane and blood and shell and soul. A shell, a case, a face beneath, remarkable contrast, conceived of two pale higher beings, conceived of Root and <span class="pwa-mark decorator">Wyrm</span>. Help I can offer, yes, but only to what is already here, fill in the cracks, but a new shell from nothing? No, no, cannot, not for the one you seek or any like them.” </p>
<hr/>
<p>Even though Hollow agreed to accompany Hornet into the Queen’s Gardens, they weren’t feeling particularly comfortable about it. It was no surprise, really. After all, they hadn’t seen their mother in nearly as long a time as Hornet had seen Herrah. The idea that someone who was once so close could evolve into a stranger was more than a little frightening. Especially when a reunion came with the burden of failure.</p>
<p>The Queen’s Gardens were unkept. It had been ages since the groundskeepers had trimmed back the plants from the pathways, pruned the flowering bushes, or edged the flower beds. The plant life was wild now, overtaking everything with that voracious tenacity of nature. Many of the old structures had been half reclaimed already, ivy and weeds and brambles climbing their walls and creating canopies over the windows and roofs. In some places pollen had caked onto the glass, inches thick, creating a haunting facsimile of the Festerglow as yellowed light streamed through. </p>
<p>Hollow had never seen the cocoon that hid the White Lady, though they had known that she had vastly diminished herself in the time they’d been caged in the Black Egg. Laid gently outside of the entrance was the corpse of Drya, the great knight seeming almost at peace as the gardens she had protected slowly claimed her as their own. Hollow couldn’t help the swell of grief they felt as they and Hornet passed her by. There was nothing to be done but that didn’t stop them from wishing. </p>
<p>Inside the cocoon was dark, quiet, and damp. The pale light of the hidden Root slowly grew brighter as they walked to the center where the White Lady, Queen of Hallownest, had bound herself since the hatching of the Vessels. </p>
<p>Hollow couldn’t help but to stare. The White Lady had always been of intimidating stature, but now it had gone beyond anything they remembered. While she had diminished herself, she had been stationary for too long. Her roots had buried deep and seemed to anchor her in place, and while once the roots of her crown had seemed like the antlers of a heroic beetle, they were now wild and outstandingly broad, growing through the roof of her self-made prison. Around her body was wrapped bindings of her own making — a reminder more than any real captivity. </p>
<p>The White Lady’s eyes opened when she heard the gentle crush of foliage beneath feet and recognized the familiar smell of one of her visitors.</p>
<p>“…an unexpected visit from the pale Gendered Child.” She said, soft voice lilting with surprise. “What need have you, dear one? I’m afraid-” She stopped, blinking uselessly against her own blindness. “…that scent. It cannot be. Oh.” </p>
<p>Hollow didn’t know how to react as thick, sap-like tears welled in their mother’s eyes. They oozed thickly down her cheeks like molten diamond, glittering against her own light. </p>
<p>“…I felt your weakening within my roots. I thought you gone once I could feel you no more. Are you truly standing before me now, my child? My eyes can no longer see you but I remember your scent, or rather the strange <em>absence </em>of it, the faint smell of the darkness that created you. Our Pure Vessel. Our Hollow Knight.” </p>
<p>Hornet reached out and put her hand against Hollow’s arm. They didn’t notice they were trembling until their sibling was attempting to steady them. They reached up and gently scooped Grimmchild from between their horns and carefully handed him over to Hornet. Grimmchild went willingly, looking between the two suspiciously as he tried to figure out what was going on. Hornet just tucked him into the wide collar of her cloak. </p>
<p>Hollow went forward carefully with hesitation in their steps, but they only stopped once they were close enough to reach out and touch her. They put their hand on her knee, their unnatural voice practically creaking out of them, “…M-Mother…”</p>
<p>The White Lady gave a great shudder and more tears slid from her eyes,</p>
<p>“Oh, my little one…it <em>is </em>you. I cannot believe it…my child, I do not deserve your kindness or forgiveness, but I am grateful to be able to speak my apologies to you. I do not know how you are free, how the plague has been banished, but I am glad that you are safe and free from the terrible duty we bestowed upon you. But-” Her voice turned uncertain. “-what of the other Vessel? One of your kin came to me, carrying a surprising strength. I thought it would usurp you, Hollow Knight, but I feel no captive light at the edges of my roots.” </p>
<p>“Little Ghost…” Hollow replied, staring up at the White Lady with just as much emotion as she was outwardly showing, “…why w-we come. Hornet tell. Need…y-your help.” </p>
<p>Hornet, keeping her respectable distance from the pale Root, especially with Grimmchild curled under her chin, wasted little time explaining what had happened and what had been learned. The White Lady remained quiet and steady throughout the retelling, allowing Hornet to finish completely before she made any sound that could possibly interrupt. She took several moments to gather her thoughts, milky eyes closed gently as she took in all of the information that had been brought to her.</p>
<p>“…It makes sense.” She said after that stretch of silence. “When I was just a sprout, freshly bloomed from my pale seed, I felt the changing in the soil. From below was always a warm and comforting darkness, but I could not touch it lest it shy away from my light. That darkness eventually turned cold and chaotic, and that is the way it stayed when my beloved <span class="pwa-mark decorator">Wyrm</span> discovered that Abyss below, brought its void above and shaped it with will and magics. To think I may have been feeling the last heartbeats of a dying god…” </p>
<p>“The Obscurity lives again, through all of the Vessels, with Little Ghost at Her center. We want to try to extract them, but for that, they will need a new shell. We were hoping you could help us.” Hornet said, not wanting to get too distracted from their goal. </p>
<p>“To make a new shell…” the White Lady grimaced slightly. “I cannot, dear children. Not by myself. The Vessels were created by the union of <span class="pwa-mark decorator">Wyrm</span> and Root. Without your sire, anything I created would be incomplete.” </p>
<p>Hollow made a sound somewhere between anger and despair,</p>
<p>“He is gone. H-How…has to b-be some way!”</p>
<p>The White Lady sighed deeply and lifted her head. Her roots trembled, stretched, coiled. Her eyes were closed again and, as she breathed, her pale white body seemed to illuminate even brighter. </p>
<p>“…It is true that he is not in Hallownest, but he is not gone. I can feel him, that beautiful warmth of his light, in the distance between my roots and the edges of the Dream…I do not know where he is now, but gone, no. He is the last of his kind. He could not pass from this world so easily.” </p>
<p>“It’s all gone, Queen Root.” Hornet said, a bit testily. “The White Palace and the Pale King, they vanished after the Light-that-Hates reappeared within Hallownest. We have no leads and no idea where to go next.” </p>
<p>“I am sorry.” The White Lady genuinely sounded so. “All I can tell you is that he lingers, somewhere beyond our reach here. I wish I could do more. But you have already discovered more about our beloved Hallownest than I could dream. I hope you will keep searching for your answers. Who knows what else you may discover.” </p>
<p>“What we continue to discover are further obstacles to what seems like an increasingly impossible goal.” Hornet said, bristling with bitterness. The Grimmchild chittered against her shoulder and she instinctively put a hand to the back of his head as one would typically comfort a swaddled grub. He exhaled a bit of smoke and burrowed back down under the collar of her cloak. </p>
<p>“W-Will…keep looking.” Hollow said firmly. “Will <em>not </em>g-give up.”</p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The White Palace</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>It was impossible. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It wasn’t a difficult conclusion to come to. The Little Ghost had walked the width and breadth of Hallownest, from the Kingdom’s Edge to the Queen’s Gardens, from Dirtmouth to the depths of the Birthplace. They had seen the devastation of the Dream Plague, the sickly orange miasma that seeped from the Temple of the Black Egg, the hateful glow of light streaming out from the eyes of the risen dead. They had forgotten and remembered everything, and through the difficult and treacherous Path of Pain they had learned many truths. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The first truth was that the Pale King, their sire, had loved them. It was difficult to cope with — it was easiest to deny it, cast away that affection that the Pale King had never shared with them, to wish that everything could have been different. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The second truth was that the efforts of the Pale King had been in vain from the very beginning. Everything that he had attempted, every sacrifice he’d made, had been for naught. To seal the Radiance away, a pure and hollow Vessel was needed…but no such Vessel could have ever existed. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Because of that first truth. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>No matter which Vessel had been chosen from the seemingly endless ranks, the Pale King would have felt affection for the tiny, voiceless bug. He would have showed them affection even as he counseled himself not to, he would have struggled not to give them a proper name, he would have loved them so completely as to be torn apart by the sight of their Sealing. The Pale King would love them, and the Vessel would, without fail, become tarnished by an Idea Instilled. A hope. A wish. An affection. Love. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The Hollow Knight had not been a failure. They had simply felt the love of their sire and returned it. The Pale King, for all the terrible sacrifices and choices he made to save his kingdom, did not turn to cruelty easily. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Little Ghost stared at the shimmering memory, watching as the Pale King gently placed his hand between the horns of the tiny Hollow Knight. The Vessel looked up at him, eyes shining with obvious happiness. As the image shifted and started to fade, LIttle Ghost clenched their fists tight. This, if anything, was their own Idea Instilled. It had never been possible to be hollow…and they were going to find some way to save this kingdom regardless. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>It had annoyed Hollow that they hadn’t thought of it sooner. This time it was Hornet following as they made the decision to return to the Palace Grounds. It was the only lead they could see, the White Palace was the last known location of the Pale King, and anything was worth a try at this point. </p>
<p>When they reached the disconnected entrance guarded by the dead Kingsmould, Hollow took a closer look. The void tendrils that curled out from the armor had buried themselves deep into the earth, reaching downwards towards the Abyss that was not that far beneath them, trying to rejoin with the whole. </p>
<p>“…Hollow?” Hornet’s voice brought them out of their thoughts. “What’s on your mind?”</p>
<p>“<em>I have an idea.</em>” Hollow signed back before reaching for the Kingsmould. Their fingers plunged between a crack in the armor, into the void that had been harnessed and shaped to serve. If the void was the body of the Obscurity and all of the Vessels had been created from Her, then was it possible that-</p>
<p>The void shuddered under their fingers, wrapped around them, pulsed and squirmed between them. Hollow felt the space between them vanish — void joined with void, just as it had been when the Obscurity had pulled them down into the lake. </p>
<p>In their mind’s eye they saw Her, great and terrible, eyes gleaming. She blinked and Hollow could see Ghost within Her for a moment before, with a jolt, they saw a vision of Little Ghost before the Kingsmould they were kneeled before now, Dream Nail in hand. The void then separated from Them, pulling back to free them, and when Hollow blinked their gaze was clear again. Hollow stood.</p>
<p>“<em>Give me the Dream Nail</em>.” They signed before extending a hand. Hornet acquiesced, pulling it from a pocket hidden in her cloak. She let out a surprised grunt when Hollow pulled her against them tightly, their arm around her and their hand pressing the Grimmchild firmly into her cloak. Hollow focused their Soul into the blade and, once it was humming and shining bright, they drove it into the Kingsmould. </p>
<hr/>
<p>It was an indescribable sensation. For a moment they were adrift, only aware of each other, blinded by Essence and cloud and light and then they were standing on solid ground again. The cavern they had been standing it was gone, replaced by endless sky that surrounded the full glory of the White Palace. It shone and glimmered against the nonexistent pale light that speared down from a source hidden high above. </p>
<p>“…the whole thing, in a dream.” Hornet’s voice betrayed how amazed she was, but beneath that was anger. The kingdom had needed him, <em>she </em>had needed him, and all along he had been hidden just on the other side of the veil. “All this time he was just at the edges of our vision.” </p>
<p>Grimmchild peeked out from the collar of Hornet’s cloak, blinking against the harsh light and sniffing deeply. He chittered as he wiggled free, wings beating excitedly as he all but took off into the entrance of the palace. Hollow dashed after him, managing to grab the end of his tail and pull him back, much to the grub’s chagrin. </p>
<p>“Go, go!” Grimmchild demanded, putting his teeth on Hollow’s arm without biting. </p>
<p>“Patience, you.” Hornet was a little too sharp as her irritation bubbled over just slightly. “We don’t know what we’ll find in here. You need to be careful and stay with us. We’ve lost enough without losing you too, got it?”</p>
<p>Hollow gave her a surprised look but she didn’t return their gaze. Grimmchild watched her retreating back and she went in first, needle in hand, then looked up at Hollow questioningly.</p>
<p>“…Bad? Bad Grimm?”</p>
<p>“No. Reckless Grimm.” Hollow assured him, stroking the space between his eyes. “Stay close. No rush. Nervous place.” </p>
<p>Grimmchild squeaked unhappily but agreed, fluttering out of Hollow’s grasp to hover close by. Hollow quickly went in through the palace door to catch up with Hornet. </p>
<hr/>
<p>Luckily there was nothing to fear. When the White Palace had been transported into the dream, there had been no danger within its walls. Everything looked pristine, though much of the furniture had been shrouded with white sheets as if to prepare for the relocation. Muttering almost mindlessly in the hallways were the Royal Retainers that had been caught in the sweep. It was difficult to tell if they were real or just mirages of what they had been before spending ages in a dream. </p>
<p>The three of them went straight to the throne room. There was no other place to expect to find the Pale King. The closer they got, the more antsy Grimmchild became and the stiffer Hornet’s posture. It seemed like she was more than ready to give her sire a piece of her mind — but all of that anger fled from her when she saw what was truly there to greet them. </p>
<p>The corpse of the Pale King was so delicate as to look as fragile as dust. Discolored robes dressed his small form, hands resting uselessly in his lap, eye holes distressingly empty. Though he still glowed with light it was severely diminished. </p>
<p>“…b-but the White Lady said…” Hornet’s grip on her needle tightened as tears welled up in her eyes. Out of sadness or anger or both, it was impossible to say. “She said he was alive! That she could feel him! Why did she lie!?” </p>
<p>Hollow wanted to comfort her. Wanted to reach out. But their grief had stuck them in place, glued their eyes to the face of their sire. The emotions surging inside of them had no name, or at least not one that was known to them. This bright, shining beacon, the God-King of Hallownest, their sire — nothing had prepared them for this sight. </p>
<p>Neither sibling was prepared for the Grimmchild to dart forward, practically screeching as he dive-bombed at the corpse. He didn’t make contact, swooping harmlessly over its head, but the act made both of them flinch and try to stop him regardless. Grimmchild evaded them and perched on the high back of the throne, his eyes blazing so bright they were almost like lanterns. </p>
<p>“In, in! Give to Grimm! Fire, fire!” </p>
<p>Hollow looked helplessly from the grub to their sister. Hornet had roughly scrubbed the tears from her face and she pointed up at Grimmchild with her needle.</p>
<p>“You get down here!”</p>
<p>“Give!” Grimmchild bristled and shot a ball of flame into the air above them. </p>
<p>“Grimmchild-!”</p>
<p>Hollow reached out and grabbed Hornet’s wrist, pushing her needle down so that it was aimed at the floor. She stiffened under their touch and didn’t protest when they slipped her weapon from her hand and returned it to the sheath across her back. She stubbornly refused to hug them back when they drew her in for a quick squeeze. </p>
<p>“<em>I think he means we should try to go further. There’s no reason for the Mother Root to lie to us. Perhaps we just cannot see everything</em>.” Hollow signed in the space between them. </p>
<p>Hornet nodded a bit, so Hollow gestured to the Grimmchild, who obeyed after a few moments and wrapped himself tightly around Hollow’s uncracked horn.</p>
<p>“In! Fire! Feast! Give!” </p>
<p>Hollow once again wrapped an arm around their sister and, with the barest spark of hope, activated the Dream Nail and speared it into the corpse on the throne.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>This was not a dream. </p>
<p>Once they managed to get their bearings, both siblings understood why the Grimmchild had been so adamant about peeling the layer of the dream back. Beneath it was a nightmare, a dark and suffocating space littered with spits of Essence tainted scarlet. They drifted like the ash in Kingdom’s Edge, fluttering and dancing in the air as if carried by a wind. There was no wind, though, and nothing else either. </p>
<p>Grimmchild launched himself from Hollow’s shell and immediately began to swoop and swirl through the air, giggling and snapping as he snatched the Essence out of its dance and gulped it down with abandon. With each particle he ate the room seemed to lighten just a touch, and so neither Hollow nor Hornet felt it necessary to call the feasting grub back.</p>
<p>They followed the Nightmare child through the vast space. There was no way to tell which way they were facing, no landmarks and no way to leave behind markers of their passage. The ground occasionally lit up with a Seal of Binding — but they weren’t, not really, they were more like half-remembered etchings that glowed with no true power. </p>
<p>And then, at the edge of Hornet’s vision, she saw a shade, a small body with a round head and wide, downturned horns and large eyes that were startlingly white against the void-black of its incorporeal body. She jumped and jerked back against Hollow, pointing, but it was gone in an instant. It was soon replaced with the image of a shambling husk, eyes blazing orange and Infection leaking from its mouth. It wasn’t the only one — more bugs joined the vision, sentries and citizens, workers and beggars, any bug that could possibly have lived in Hallownest. And then it changed again, to the Dreamers, all sleeping but leaking that hateful light from their bodies.</p>
<p>The image shattered as Grimmchild dove and devoured more of the scarlet Essence. </p>
<p>“…wh-…what do you think this is-?” Hornet asked, her arm linked with Hollow’s. “…our father’s nightmare? You think…”</p>
<p>Again, the darkness parted around mirages — the White Lady, her back turned, the edges of her roots blistered and broken. As they watched, the Infection ate her up, reducing her to dust and sap. Five faces, the Five Great Knights, succumbing to the Dream Plague, no, to wounds of unknown origin, no, something else? Anything else. It didn’t matter, they were gone, the foundation of the kingdom shaken. The kingdom starts to crumble. It begins with the Palace folding inward, the ground opens, everything tumbles into that deep dark Abyss below. Everything follows, from the Ancient Basin to the sleepy surface town of Dirtmouth. The void is chewing, grinding the whole of the kingdom and everyone in it between needle sharp teeth. </p>
<p>Grimmchild snapped and swallowed and laughed and hunted. </p>
<p>Buckets of void are poured into the molds, Kingsmoulds come out and are dressed in their armor — but they’re leaking free and their hands are reaching. Then there’s Hornet, tiny, her horns barely grown from her skull and her cloak too big. Her big black eyes fill with orange until it bursts from them in thick streams, dripping and pooling against the baby bug’s chest. </p>
<p>The eggs vanish into that all encompassing dark. They fall a long way and crash into the earth with enough force to shake them to their knees. The image is cloudy as if they’re seeing it through water. From the dark, dozens of tiny faces lift, try to reach them, but each one slips and falls back down — until finally, finally, one lifts itself and stands upright. Tiny Hollow, freshly hatched, not the great Hollow Knight yet. But when they look up the Infection has already taken root. It’s too late. Nothing as worked-</p>
<p>Grimmchild slurped messily and swooped to catch another fragment, shrieking with joy. They’re getting closer now, the Essence is thicker and the despair is palpable. The weight of it all — sadness, grief, regret — is enough to make it hard to breathe. </p>
<p>Hollow felt Hornet’s arms around them, realized they were also clinging to their sibling. They were both trembling. </p>
<p>“…this is where he’s been.” Hornet’s voice was hoarse and unsteady. “He locked himself away in this nightmare. He’s been punishing himself. All this time.”</p>
<p>Hollow tightened their grip. Their cheeks were wet as they ducked their head down as if they could shield Hornet from the terrible visions swirling around them. It seemed never-ending, a whirlwind of blistering negativity, and then the Grimmchild snapped one last piece into his mouth and plopped onto the floor like an overstuffed bug-roast. </p>
<p>The nightmare lifted, its scarlet flame completely devoured, and then they were all standing in a featureless expanse of pale grey nothingness. Hollow peeked up over Hornet’s shell and saw, in the distance, a familiar pale light. </p>
<hr/>
<p>At the center of the glow was a pale, meager shelled creature. </p>
<p>The creature slowly stood, looking around in confusion at the lack of the nightmare that had surrounded them. It turned and saw them, frozen as they approached, expression disbelieving and twisted with pain.</p>
<p>The Pale King stared at his children with tears streaming down his face. He reached out, his hand caressing the soft curve of Hornet’s shell. He seemed shocked that she was solid. With a frantic stretch, he reached and smoothed his hand across the crack in Hollow’s shell. It, too, was real. </p>
<p>“…i-it cannot be…” His voice was barely a whisper but it was so loud in the emptiness around them. “…you are just more visions to haunt me. To remind me. You c-cannot be…”</p>
<p>Hollow stooped and wrapped their arms around their sire. Hornet followed suit. Neither sibling was able to stop themselves from crying, especially as the Pale King was wracked with painful sobs of his own. They stood there together for what felt like hours, holding each other, weeping their sorrows into each other’s arms. Two children desperate for their father’s embrace and one father grateful for their selflessness, clutching to them with the ferocity that betrayed just how much he’d missed them.</p>
<p>All the while, Grimmchild looked on, fat off the nightmare and far too sleepy to process the magnitude of the reunion he was watching. </p>
<p>The space around all of them shifted, tilted, seemed to shudder. For a moment they were all gripped by fear, but then everything seemed to click into place. The grey nothingness faded away to reveal the pristine walls of the White Palace, the three of them kneeling before the now empty throne. Grimmchild was dead asleep on the floor just a few feet from them, snoring atrociously. </p>
<p>From the windows they could see the rocky face of the cavern that housed the palace grounds. The nightmare and the dream had been banished. Everything was back where it should have been.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Obviously the White Palace isn't a platforming challenge in this fic, but the Path of Pain sure as hell still is haha. </p>
<p>Also, hey, Grimmchild came in handy. :p</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Banished Light</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“I…I barely know what to say…except thank you.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Elderbug’s gratitude was overwhelming. It was obvious that he hadn’t felt appreciated in a long time. It must have been difficult as he watched his town fade, watched the residents vanish down the well one by one. When Little Ghost had arrived he had been the only one left, the only one that resisted the call of the ruined kingdom down below. Despite that penetrating loneliness, Elderbug had still reached out to offer advice and a plea for caution to the small, voiceless bug that had entered Dirtmouth from the wastes on one dark, windswept evening. </em>
</p>
<p><em>Elderbug had told them all he knew, of the lush caverns of </em> <span class="pwa-mark decorator"> <em>Greenpath</em> </span> <em>, the capitol city at the heart of Hallownest, the heights of the Crystal Peak. He had never been down into the depths himself but he recalled nearly every story a traveler had recounted to him. Whatever he thought would be of help to others he was sure to provide. Little Ghost had listened, ever silent but attentive. When they had brought peace to the Grey Mourner, when the delicate flowers had spread over the grave of the Traitor’s Child, they had a sudden idea. They had picked one of the blinding white blooms and, with the exquisite care that it needed, taken it from its bed and up into Dirtmouth. </em></p>
<p>
  <em>There wasn’t much the Little Ghost could offer. But maybe this was enough.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I’d resigned myself to giving out advice without any expectation of gratitude…little did I know that one young bug was taking my words to heart and would repay my kindness…a-and with such a beautiful gift…the world seems a little less faded.” </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p>Hollow pulled the sheets from the furniture as Hornet helped their sire into his bed. It was an exceedingly large stretch of soft, pale hued finery and the Pale King looked comically tiny once settled in. Most of the bed had been for his Queen, for her towering and intimidating stature. It was unsurprising that he was completely exhausted and barely able to keep upright. </p>
<p>The two pale children watched over their father as he slept a dreamless sleep. Grimmchild kept watch too, burrowed amongst the discarded sheets and watching for any sign of a Nightmare that he could sink his teeth into. Luckily for the King and unluckily for the grub, no such Nightmare intruded. </p>
<p>Hollow and Hornet spoke very little while the Pale King rested. Neither of them knew what to say and both of them were frightened that speaking about it might shatter the illusion. They sat together, close enough that their elbows touched or they could easily reassure the other that they were both there. Something about the unexpected reunion was too heavy to put into words. </p>
<p>When the Pale King finally woke again, still weak and tired but no longer a wraith of his former self, he seemed surprised that he had actually been freed of his self-imposed prison. His gaze drifted over his two children with a mix of wonder and sadness. Hornet had grown much since the last time they’d seen each other, and the crack in Hollow’s shell had not been there when they’d said goodbye. </p>
<p>The King slowly heaved himself into a sitting position against the headboard of his bed. It was obvious by his expression that he had no idea where to start. He fumbled for a moment, opening and closing his mouth uselessly until finally he let out a long, shaky exhale. His voice was quiet and soft when he finally managed to speak.</p>
<p>“…I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>“You should be.” </p>
<p>Hollow jerked in surprise, head snapping around to look at Hornet in shock. The eldest of the Pale King’s progeny was staring at him intensely, fire in her eyes despite the beginnings of tears. They were angry tears, uninvited guests of her emotions. Her hands were clenched into the hem of her cloak so tightly that the seams of her chitin were visible. </p>
<p>“You should be sorry, you <em>coward</em>-” Hornet’s voice was almost a hiss, “How dare you. You founded this kingdom and then turned and vanished when it needed you most. You went to such terrible lengths to try to save Hallownest and then when your plan failed, you just left it all behind. All of us, leaderless and lightless, so that you could what, g-go off and punish yourself for your actions where no one could see? How d-dare you-” </p>
<p>Hollow reached out timidly and placed their hand on Hornet’s back. She twitched but didn’t pull away. </p>
<p>“My mother went to her eternal sleep and then you, you just vanished without a trace, the whole damn palace, you left me alone to watch our home crumble under the Light-that-Hates.” Hornet shook her head as she refused to let her tears fall. “You didn’t even think of me, did you? Of any of us?”</p>
<p>The Pale King was silent as she spoke, taking in every word with a soft and sad expression. When he was sure she was done, he bowed his head and closed his eyes.</p>
<p>“…I didn’t.” He admitted, and Hornet almost rose from her chair in a fit of anger, but he continued. “In those moments before I cast myself and the palace into the Dream, I didn’t think of you. I wasn’t thinking of Hallownest. I was only thinking of myself. About my failures. I wasn’t able to overcome them. You’re right, Hornet. I am a coward. And there is nothing I can say that will ease your pain and suffering, nothing that will give back the time you had to spend alone due to my own selfishness, but I am sorry. All I can hope is that you will give me the chance to make it up to you.”</p>
<p>Hornet hadn’t been expecting such a response. She had wanted some sort of altercation, something that would let her vent all of the frustrations that she’d tucked away in order to protect the corpse of her homeland. But her sire was a reasonable bug most of the time, and it was obvious that his time in the Nightmare had made him more than aware of the fact that he had run from his responsibilities, his kingdom, his own children. She’d wanted a fight and instead she’d gotten acceptance, so she sat there, dumbfounded and annoyed, angry with no outlet. </p>
<p>“…you deserve a much better father. Both of you. I am sorry for the suffering I have put you through.” The Pale King reached out with one hand, thought better of it, and then dropped it back into his lap. “But…something happened, while I was hiding away. The Pure Vessel sits before me unfettered and holding no Light.”</p>
<p>“Much…has h-happened.” Hollow said, shocking their sire further, “Much t-to explain. Hornet and I.” </p>
<p>“…Your plan worked.” Hornet said with her voice clipped and cold. “Just not the way you conceived it. Now that you’re back, the least you can do is help us get back our sibling who made it possible.” Hollow nudged Hornet with their elbow and she sighed heavily before getting to her feet. “…I need a minute. You can fill him in. I just need…I’ll be back in a little while.”</p>
<p>Hollow frowned as they watched her go, vanishing through the door to the royal bedchambers and out into the twisting halls of the White Palace. They then looked at the Pale King sadly.</p>
<p>“…w-will take her…some time. T-To forgive.”</p>
<p>“She may not, and I would not blame her.” the King responded. </p>
<p>“<em>I’m going to tell you the story of the land that became your kingdom</em>.” Hollow signed slowly to let their sire readjust to the method of communication. “<em>What we have learned and what we strive to do now. We will need your help. Perhaps, in doing so, you may earn some favor back with Hornet</em>.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>“Your anger is palpable, little needle.”</p>
<p>Hornet jumped and spun, hand on the hilt of her weapon until she recognized the voice that had spoken and relaxed instantly. It was strange to be unfamiliar with the sound of her own mother’s voice. She’d forgotten that her people could be as silent as death, too, her mother’s approach completely escaping her until she’d willingly made her presence known.</p>
<p>“I am angry.” Hornet admitted, watching the Spider Queen approach her. Herrah was steady on her many legs, looking for all intents and purposes that she had never been asleep on a stone altar for many, many years. </p>
<p>“Because of your discoveries, I imagine.” Herrah turned her head and looked up at the White Palace, its gleaming spires and domes filling the cavern with a pale glow. “As I traveled here, I felt some strange ripple, like a pebble striking a still pool.”</p>
<p>Hornet glanced at the palace as well but then turned her back to it, looking out over the opposite side of the massive bridge that spanned the cavern. It stretched from the Ancient Basin, through the chamber, to the entrance of the palace Stag Station. Northward was the entrance to the palace, and southward the bridge overlooked a dark lake of water. Sharp rocks jutted out of it like the teeth of a great beast and though the water glimmered like that of the Blue Lake far above, the deeper the water, the darker it became. Beneath, after all, was the newly focused void.</p>
<p>“…Hollow and I delved into the Dream Realm and found our sire, hidden away in a Nightmare of his own making.”</p>
<p>Herrah was silent, watching as Hornet glared out over the lake. </p>
<p>“All this time, he was right there. Untouchable. I can’t-…I’m <em>so </em>angry, mother.”</p>
<p>“You need not forgive him if your heart is not willing.” Herrah said gently. “You need not even give him the chance to earn it, if you do not desire. Feel that anger but do not let it consume you, my child. It is good to feel so strongly. It is indicative of your love.” </p>
<p>“I don’t feel very much like I love him right now.” Hornet replied bitterly.</p>
<p>Herrah laughed and the sound seemed to put Hornet at ease.</p>
<p>“If you did not, you would not be so angry. Now, I imagine that he’s somewhere in the royal chambers. I ought to go give him my opinion now, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>“Perhaps.” Hornet turned and offered her mother a smile. “I’ll be in soon. I just need a little more time to think.”</p>
<p>“Take all the time you need, my little weaver.” </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>The Pale King was still talking quietly with Hollow when the Queen of Deepnest arrived. He paused, looking past his child to her form in the doorway, eyes a bit wide. Hollow turned and greeted her with a wave of their hand and a sign.</p>
<p>“Hello again, Hollow. And welcome back, your majesty~”</p>
<p>Herrah’s greeting to the Pale King was sharp, ringed with no small amount of mockery. Deepnest had never accepted the Wyrm’s rule, had turned away all infrastructure but the Stag Station, had bound their rule at the nest’s edge and refused to let any conversion take root. It was only through the combined threat of the Festerglow that any communication had taken place after the death of Herrah’s consort. There had been little time to grieve and even less time ensure her kingdom would have an heir to lead it one day. So she had killed two <span class="pwa-mark decorator">vengeflies</span> with one nail.</p>
<p>“Herrah…” the Pale King seemed to shrink under her gaze, tears pooling at his eyes. “Herrah, forgive me, your sacrifice, you slumber, it was all for naught-”</p>
<p>“Enough. You are a king, are you not? Apologize, but weep not. Our bargain was fair and I have no regrets. Whatever ones you lay upon yourself in relation to me, cast them off. I have no need for them.” Herrah’s voice was firm and unyielding but not unkind. </p>
<p>Her relationship with the Pale King was a complicated one — at first they had been enemies, a Queen resisting the attempts of an arrogant King to bring her community under his banner. The Pale King had thought that she could eventually be persuaded or overtaken, but when he had overstepped and began construction of a tram station on her land, the Spider Queen had not taken the intrusion kindly. When the station had been thoroughly and violently rejected, the King had withdrawn to reconsider his options. It was obvious that he had not considered the strength of a common bug. </p>
<p>It had been that realization that had led him to reach out for her help when the Festerglow began to appear. Herrah had understood the danger and had given the Wyrm her demands. It had seemed a strange and even insulting proposition, but the Pale King and White Lady had discussed the situation for less than a few hours before an agreement was met. And so, after a handful of attempts, Herrah got what she demanded and the Pale King had his third Dreamer. </p>
<p>It was Hornet that had brought them closer together. While they did not consider each other lovers or partners, they did consider themselves parents, and they took that role seriously. Herrah’s affection for the Pale King came only after seeing him interact with their pale, tiny daughter — and though it was by no means a romantic feeling, the two of them had come to an understanding. Two rulers of very different kingdoms, of very different walks of life, coming together to ensure their legacy would continue.</p>
<p>The Pale King quirked a small, tired smile,</p>
<p>“The enchanted sleep changed you not a bit, Queen of Spiders.” He said, his sorrow replaced with grateful warmth. “It is good to see you, safe and unharmed.”</p>
<p>“And you, old Wyrm.” She replied, coming further into the room and easing in beside Hollow. “I assume the children have filled you in on their endeavors, and you and I have much to discuss. But first, I suggest we take the steps to gather the other Dreamers to us here. We’re going to need your greatest minds to rebuild what was broken, wouldn’t you agree?”</p>
<hr/>
<p>It was decided that Herrah and Hornet would go to the Watcher’s Spire and the Teacher’s Archives to wake the other two Dreamers. In the meantime, Hollow would take the Pale King to the Queen’s Gardens to reunite with the White Lady. Once all of them were gathered in the White Palace again, they would discuss the next step in creating a new shell for the Little Ghost. </p>
<p>The Watcher’s Spire was closest. Herrah quickly decided that she was not a fan of the rain and so the trek through the city proper was briskly paced. Seeing the capitol so empty, drenched, and somber had more of an impact on Herrah than she let on. Once this had been the shining heart of a truly great kingdom and now it felt more like a crypt than a city. Hornet was unaffected, used to the state of things, and led her mother through the hidden passages that opened to the tallest elevator in the whole of the kingdom.</p>
<p>Lurien had been a strange little bug. He had been born and raised in Hallownest and had admired and worshipped the Pale King from a young age. He’d turned his brilliant mind to the complexities of infrastructure and had caught the King’s attention when he had petitioned for a newer, better designed waterway system to ensure proper waste removal. The petition had been accepted and, once the massive project had been completed and proved efficient, the Pale King had taken the tiny bug to his side and given him much authority on the growth of the kingdom. Lurien had wasted no time designing the towers, domes, roads, signage, and foundations of what would become the City of Tears. While it hadn’t been him alone to create the heart of Hallownest, there were few structures built that he hadn’t had some hand in. His love for his King and his City had prompted him to volunteer to Sleep. </p>
<p>Hornet readied herself for a battle. She knew that Lurien was guarded by the Watcher Knights, a series of constructs that Monomon had designed with her fellow Dreamer in mind. Electrified, hyperaggressive cousins of the lumafly had been bred to fill the armored shells and animate them in defense of Lurien. Hornet would need to defeat them to pass.</p>
<p>Beyond the elevator door, the armor of the Watcher Knights lay strewn about in disorganized piles. The lumaflys buzzed harmlessly in the open lamps above, unable to do harm without their hosts to control, unable to do the necessary work to put the armor back together. The suits had been thoroughly trashed, chipped and dented by the harsh blows of a nail. Hornet stepped in carefully but none of the broken constructs so much as twitched. The flies ignored her completely. On the other side of the room the door to the last elevator stood open. </p>
<p>“…Little Ghost was here.” Hornet said as she made the quick trek across the room to double-check they wouldn’t be stopped. When she was certain it was safe, she beckoned her mother over and Herrah followed. “They defeated the Watcher Knights, but I imagine we will find Lurien untouched.”</p>
<p>“You sound certain.” </p>
<p>“Yes. Because Little Ghost found you, could have broken your seal, but did not.”</p>
<p>Herrah made a thoughtful sound as they stepped out of the lift and into the Watcher’s chambers. Lurien’s telescope was ever steady at its post near the far window, surrounded by the corpses of his attendants who had succumbed to the Infection and eventually fallen into the sleep they would never wake from. Lurien lay on his own plinth, silent and breathing steadily, his tiny body dwarfed and swathed in the cloak that had been given to him when he agreed to sleep for the Seals. </p>
<p>“So the Vessel came here, destroyed the defenses, but did not break the Seal. You said they had found a different way, through that bug you call the Godseeker, but I cannot imagine why it was necessary to defeat these constructs before doing so.” </p>
<p>“If Little Ghost was exploring, they would not have been able to go back once they triggered the trap. It was the same for their time in our distant village. They did fall prey to your snare, but once they freed themselves and found your den, they did not raise a nail against you.” Hornet pulled the Dream Nail from her cloak and brought the blade to life. “…whatever the Godseeker’s ritual, it means you were not lost to me. I am grateful.”</p>
<p>“As am I, my dear.” </p>
<p>Lurien was slow to wake, but once he gained consciousness he expressed full, unadulterated panic. Like Herrah, when the Hollow Knight had left the Black Egg, his ability to monitor the world beyond the Dream had failed. It took Herrah several moments to calm the frantic bug as he babbled worriedly about the king, the city, the Seals, and anything else that came to mind. Once he had been assured that, while the kingdom had fallen, not everything was lost, the Watcher seemed to almost deflate. He collapsed back onto his plinth.</p>
<p>“…I have slept for years and yet, now, I am more exhausted than I have ever been.” His voice was surprisingly deep for his small stature.</p>
<p>“The Dreamer’s sleep is not a restful one, Watcher Lurien.” Herrah said lightly. “Take some time to get your strength back. When you feel well enough, go to the White Palace. Hornet and I are going to the Archives to retrieve Monomon.”</p>
<p>“As you say,” Lurien’s voice held a note of unhappiness. He was looking around at the state of his chambers, realizing the dead around them and how much more of that there would be once he left the relative safety of his tower. “Tell me the city’s architecture has withheld against time and plague.”</p>
<p>“Some places more than others,” Hornet said, her tone dry. “You will see for yourself now, the capitol renamed the City of Tears. Much survived and much did not.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Hornet was not surprised to find Quirrel there when she and her mother arrived at the Teacher’s Archives. Just like the Spire, the guardian of the sleeping Teacher had been vanquished — the great electric gelatinous creature nothing more than a membrane drifting in the acid lake. The apprentice hadn’t regained all of his memories yet, but he wasn’t completely surprised to see them when they reached the large glass tube that Monomon had encased herself within. </p>
<p>“After the little fellow left here, I was wondering if more visitors would come. They seemed certain someone would, eventually.” Quirrel said, clasping hands with Hornet in greeting. </p>
<p>“They were here to kill Uumuu,” Hornet said, and Quirrel nodded.</p>
<p>“I helped. I admit, I feel badly about it now, the poor thing. I just saw that little one in danger and leaped in to assist. Not that they had much need of it. It wasn’t until after that I remembered Uumuu’s purpose.” He grimaced and spread his hands. “…I imagine that she has no regrets, though.” </p>
<p>He looked up at the glass case where the figure of Monomon hovered, obscured, inside. He removed the mask from his head and held it aloft, letting its power return to the creature it belonged to. It fizzled, disintegrated, glowed, and vanished — and the image of the Dreamer became clearer from within the information storing fluid. </p>
<p>Hornet used the Dream Nail to break the Teacher free.</p>
<p>Monomon was an exceedingly gentle creature — not bug or beast, but something from a distant land of water and greens. The people of her homeland spoke a different language than that of Hallownest, but she had learned their tongue with alarming quickness. The Pale King had taken an interest in her once she had set up her archives, a small and slap-dash little building at the time, in what would become the Fog Canyon. She hadn’t gotten permission, not understanding the way of property ownership in Hallownest, but the King had been fascinated with her method of storing knowledge and found her insatiable thirst that knowledge admirable. He’d pardoned her misstep and asked her to become a scholar and a teacher and she had readily agreed, delighted to learn and share that learning with anyone who desired it. She was extremely dedicated and exceedingly resourceful and many a bug had benefitted from her willingness to help anyone in need…the Pale King most of all.</p>
<p>Monomon had an ethereal quality to her that was only heightened by her Dreamer’s mask and cloak obscuring her face and the upper half of her body. The first thing she did when she emerged from her slumber was greet and embrace her assistant, and then she embraced Herrah and commented on how much Hornet had grown. </p>
<p>“I knew the Seals had to be undone but this is not how I thought it would be so.” Monomon said as Quirrel assisted her to her chambers beneath her resting place. “The Dreamers wake and the Black Egg lays empty, and yet something stirs the energies of Hallownest. What has changed? What has happened?”</p>
<p>“We’ll explain everything once we’re all gathered at the Palace. Lurien will be there soon, and then we will all discuss what we are going to do moving forward.” Herrah assured her, obviously pleased to see the studious and level-headed Monomon again.</p>
<p>“Very well. Quirrel and I will be there as soon as I am able to make the journey. My apprentice and I have much to catch up on as well.” </p>
<hr/>
<p>Hollow couldn’t tell if his sire was nervous or excited. It could have been both, they supposed, but they couldn’t quite be sure. </p>
<p>The Pale King followed his progeny through the lush, humid paths of his Queen’s retreat, taking in the overgrowth and the general state of disarray. He paused and stared at Drya’s decaying form for longer than either of them would admit before Hollow finally gave him the gentle push he needed to descend into the cocoon that hid the White Lady. It seemed ironic that both monarchs of Hallownest had responded to its crumbling in the same way, both hiding themselves from the world as punishment for sins committed. </p>
<p>The Pale King took a shuddering breath at the sight of his Queen, bound by her own roots and almost as overgrown as her garden. He put a hand to his mouth.</p>
<p>“…Oh, my dear…”</p>
<p>Though his voice was soft, the White Lady stirred and opened her eyes. Though she could not see, she could detect the bugs standing before her. Her roots shifted in the soil as she straightened herself, “…could that be-…Hollow, you return, and with you-”</p>
<p>“Mother,” Hollow spoke so that she could know for sure it was them. “Bring l-long…awaited g-…guest. Found him. B-Brought him home.” </p>
<p>The White Lady blinked uselessly as her breath caught in her chest. The Pale King stepped forward, his vibrant wings fanning out beneath his robes behind him to let him hover just before her. His hand gently slid along her cheek and she let out a little gasp. In that moment, the pale light that they both exuded seemed to brighten even further.</p>
<p>“…beloved Wyrm…at long last you return to our Hallownest, to me.”</p>
<p>“Yes, my love, my Queen…” the Pale King cupped both of her cheeks in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. “I am sorry to have left you alone. I have missed you terribly.” </p>
<p>Hollow stepped out. Not just to let them have the space to reconnect, but to save themself the embarrassment of watching their parents be so in love with each other. </p>
<hr/>
<p>“I will keep my word,” The White Lady said firmly. “I said I could not make a new shell without your sire at my side, and you have brought him back to me. Therefore, I will do whatever I can to create a new shell for the Little Ghost, that Vessel who saved us all.”</p>
<p>“With Lurien and Monomon at our sides, I think that we will have no trouble forming something suitable,” the Pale King agreed, “Monomon in particular was instrumental in laying the groundwork for the creation of the Vessels. I’m sure that we can come up with a way to create a shell without having to go through the process of breaking any more eggs.” </p>
<p>“W-Would prefer.” Hollow replied with a grimace. They didn’t want Ghost’s shell to come with any more suffering, and they were sure that Ghost wouldn’t accept that avenue either. “N-No more death, not…not like <span class="pwa-mark decorator">th</span>-that.” </p>
<p>“No. I think…I think Hallownest has seen enough.” The Pale King said quietly. </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>We're getting really close to the end! I hope everyone has enjoyed the journey so far. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Shell, Root, Void, God</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>These past few weeks sure have been an experience, huh. Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter! Next to last one!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>The broken Vessel reached out with one trembling hand before collapsing onto the ground with a hollow thunk. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Little Ghost sank to the floor, carefully scooping the Vessel into their arms. The light that had streamed from their eyes, bulged out of their skull like a horrific tumor, was gone now. Now those eye holes were empty of light and life. Ghost trailed their fingers along the broken shell. They couldn’t imagine how painful it must have been to experience the break — nearly half of the skull was missing, sheared off by some rough force that left horns missing and a crack down between their eyes. And now, at Ghost’s hand, they had experienced death a second time. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A thick drop of pitch black struck the cheek of the broken Vessel as the Little Ghost held their Lost Kin tightly and wept. The tears were silent despite the small body practically retching as it sobbed, wracked with emotions that were beyond the capacity of their tiny form.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It wasn’t fair. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>They were born birth-cursed, and then this Vessel who had freed themself from the Abyss had met a tragic end only for the Radiance to utilize their shattered body as a weapon. There was nothing sacred for that hateful Light Goddess anymore. A double dose of tragedy for a creature who had never deserved any of it. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The Little Ghost sat there for a long time, grieving and bitter and so, so sad.</em>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>The first step was to try to recover the knowledge lost when the ceiling of the capitol’s cavern had begun to drip. In the time before the sealing of the Hollow Knight, the Pale King had made the decision to switch record-keeping methods from stone tablets to parchment created from spider’s silk. Unfortunately, the water had proved lethal for the fragile strands and anything stored in the City of Tears had long since become illegible. Luckily, Monomon had kept a fair amount of information about the creation of the Vessels in her Archives and when she arrived at the White Palace, she had brought with her a number of vials that contained that knowledge. </p>
<p>It was exceptionally tragic, in a way, that all record of Hollow’s existence and sacrifice had been erased save for the fountain that had been erected in the capitol’s center plaza. Lurien had ordered it built just before he had gone to his Spire to sleep so he had never seen it, not until he left his Spire to go to the White Palace. If he was displeased with the way it looked, he didn’t make it known. </p>
<p>The creation of the Vessels had been both a simple and a complex process. The simple part had been the joining of the Root and Wyrm. The complex part had been joining in such a way that the Void would fill in the gaps and create constructs that would suit their needs. The shells that formed within the eggs they had dropped into the Abyss had to be formed enough to take on a sort of autonomy but not so formed that the void could not leech into them and complete them. </p>
<p>With everyone gathered in the Great Hall of the White Palace, the story was told once again. Hornet and Hollow explained the state of things, all the history that Hollow had learned from their trek down to find Little Ghost. Once everything had been recounted, again, Hornet made it very clear what their first goal was.</p>
<p>“My sibling needs a shell to be whole. Once we have that, you call can decide what happens next. The only thing I care about right now is retrieving Little Ghost from below.” </p>
<p>Hollow agreed with her with a single slow nod of their head. </p>
<p>“Fascinating.” Monomon’s voice held no small amount of wonder. “To think that the void, what we thought to be just a force of nature, was the deconstructed form of an old forgotten goddess. To think that the Vessels we created to seal the Radiance were born of the body of Her sister! Irony is a cruel thing!” </p>
<p>“An intriguing story, in the least.” Lurien replied. He barely crested the table from his seat and with his oversized cloak, he looked more like a strange mop than a bug. “You think it will be that simple? That you’ll make a shell and your sibling will pop into it?”</p>
<p><em>“We don’t know how it’s going to work, we just know that the shell is necessary.” </em>Hollow replied, frowning. </p>
<p>“The void is something we will never fully understand,” The White Lady said softly. It was strange to see her as she had been before her self-imposed isolation. She had uprooted herself, curled her crown of roots to a manageable position, draped and wrapped her body in pale robes almost like the bark of a tree. Even sitting, even without taking her crown into account, she towered over everyone else. The benefit of her being rooted for so long as that she had stored enough energy to not need to root again for quite some time. “We will do whatever we can to assist you, dear children, in your journey to retrieve the missing.” </p>
<p>“I don’t believe it will be too difficult.” Monomon said, her voice a chipper kind of trill. “Though some of the research was lost, I remember much of the details. After all, that project was the final one before my eternal sleep and I dreamed of it much! The shells were simple enough, it was the Seals woven into them to house the Void that may prove most difficult.” </p>
<p>“Unlike the capitol, Deepnest did not suffer from a sudden downpour,” Herrah cut in. “Though the Weavers departed once they were finished Sealing the Temple, within their den still lies their work. I may be able to find something that will help us recreate those Seals, if needed.”</p>
<p>“Oh, good!” Monomon clapped two of her tentacles together. Despite having no hands she was quite dextrous. “That would be lovely, Herrah. It may not be the same as the Weavers but I am sure you and I could work together on that aspect.” </p>
<p>“I don’t mean to be rude, but this seems like a strange waste of time.” Lurien adjusted his cloak around him fitfully. “Why go through all the trouble for a single Vessel when they were created for a purpose no longer necessary?”</p>
<p>Hornet bristled and was about to respond, but the Pale King spoke first.</p>
<p>“…because they have suffered enough.” His voice was quiet, almost too quiet to carry across the long table they were all seated at. “We created them to save Hallownest. Between the efforts of Hollow and the Little Ghost, it was a success. But the cost-…” His delicate face twisted with pain. “…Once I said there was no cost too great. I don’t know if I still believe that. But for this…for the chance to give the Vessel that saved us all a chance to live a life they desire, for that, there is nothing I wouldn’t pay.” </p>
<hr/>
<p>Several days of work followed. The Dreamers and the Pale Monarchs worked together tirelessly to put together the record of their work, to retrieve the necessary materials, and check and double-check their work. They devised an alternative method to create the shell that Ghost would need since creating a copy of the original wasn’t possible. Neither Monarch could bring themselves to consider it. </p>
<p>With a cutting from the Root of the White Lady, chitin broken from one of the horns of the Pale King, a tiny Seal of Silk from the Weaver’s Den, and a dallop of Void extracted from Hollow’s wrist, they created a shell that looked as close to identical as the one that had belonged to Little Ghost as possible.</p>
<p>Hornet had the final say. With her own fingers she fitfully reshaped the curve and tips of the horns until they were as close to perfect as she could manage. After all, she was the only one among them who had seen Ghost face-to-face long enough to memorize their features. Once she had been satisfied, the shell had been treated with pale light to harden and polish it, leaving it smooth and shiny and soft. </p>
<p>Hollow wanted to take the shell down into the Abyss immediately upon its completion, but the Pale King refused. </p>
<p>“What right do you have to stop them?” Hornet came to her sibling’s defense immediately.</p>
<p>“None at all,” the King replied. He looked even more fragile than normal with the horn above his right eye cleanly snapped from his skull. “But I believe if there’s anyone who should deliver the shell, it should be me. I am the reason for the child’s suffering, and though it was not by my hand alone that this gift was created, I would present it if Hollow would give me the chance.” </p>
<p>“Are you sure it’s safe for you to venture down there?” The White Lady sounded frightened. </p>
<p>“Perhaps not.” was the answer. “But if an end meets me down there, it would be fitting, wouldn’t you agree?” </p>
<p>“I do not want to lose you so soon after your return!” the Queen’s voice was a little shrill. “Who but you will rebuild Hallownest if you fall prey to that void beneath us all?”</p>
<p>“Likely those who protected and saved it when I did not,” the Pale King looked between Hornet and Hollow before shaking his head a little bit. “Worry not, my dear. What will be, will be. Now…Hollow, you and I have someone to meet, I think.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Hollow patted Grimmchild’s head as they drew back from hugging Hornet. They were standing at the door to the Abyss, ready to descend into the depths with their sire and the new shell wrapped in cloth under their arm.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry, the little <span class="pwa-mark decorator">grubling</span> will be fine until you get back.” Hornet said, fondly smothering the grub with the wide collar of her cloak. He chittered and laughed, wriggling out from beneath the fabric to nip harmlessly at her fingers.</p>
<p>“Not worried.” Hollow assured her, leaning to bump their foreheads together. “Will bring Little Ghost this time. Promise.”</p>
<p>“I know you will.” Hornet cupped her hands against Hollow’s cheeks and sighed. She could feel the crack in Hollow’s shell against her own, a strange and sharp sensation. “Be careful. And…” She dropped her voice to almost a whisper. “…please don’t let anything happen to him.”</p>
<p>The Pale King was standing at the edge of the pit, looking down into the dark. The light that his body naturally emitted barely penetrated that all encompassing blackness.</p>
<p>“Won’t.” Hollow promised, pulling away to stand upright. “Will be back, soon.” </p>
<hr/>
<p>Though the Pale King was meager in stature and looked considerably delicate, even fragile, he wasn’t what he appeared to be. When Hollow was ready, the King wrapped his arm around his child and, after being sure they had a firm grip on their parcel, spread his wings and fluttered them down. His wings were brighter than his body, a piercing light that almost stung Hollow’s eyes, thin but strong membranes that shimmered and glowed like a lumafly. Since being released from the Temple of the Black Egg, Hollow hadn’t attempted to use their own wings — they weren’t very confident in their ability to support them anymore. They had never been able to do so for more than a few minutes at a time anyway, likely due to Hollow’s unnaturally expedited growth, and they never wanted to push their luck. </p>
<p>When they lit upon the ground the Pale King folded his wings beneath his cloak and cast them back into the dark. No shades rose to greet them this time. Hollow wondered if they were too frightened to face their sire or if they were too angry. They carefully made their way towards the void lake but paused when they realized they weren’t being followed. The Pale King was rooted to the spot, looking around at all the broken shells that carpeted the Abyss.</p>
<p>Hollow waited. </p>
<p>“…I knew what I was doing.” The Pale King said suddenly, his voice a little hoarse. “I knew what my actions would reap. And yet, I…I never imagined…” </p>
<p>He put a hand to his face and, after several breaths, he turned to follow the Vessel with careful steps. Hollow reached out to steady him and when they reached the dock, they unwrapped the shell and set it into the King’s waiting hands. </p>
<p>After a moment of overbearing silence, the lake churned and surged and the Obscurity rose from its surface. If anything, She looked larger and more terrifying than before, Her eyes blinking down at Her two visitors. </p>
<p>The Pale King didn’t attempt to act strong even though he was not afraid. It wasn’t fear that was making him tremble, wasn’t fear that made him hug the shell in his arms tight against his body. It was sadness. </p>
<p>“…I know that it is not likely that I can ever be forgiven for what I’ve done,” He said, expending much effort in preventing his voice from cracking. “I understand if you desire my life in payment for my sins. I am prepared to pay. But I would ask for tolerance, perhaps time to make some things right before I face your judgement.”</p>
<p>The Obscurity shifted closer, Her massive clawed hands resting on the shore of the void lake on either side of the dock. When she spoke, her voice was layered and strange, not unlike the unnatural voice that the Radiance had accidentally gifted Hollow. Feminine, soft, harsh, childish, brittle — all of those words could have described the speech of that great and powerful God of Gods.</p>
<p>“<em>Pale Wyrm, I cannot give you the absolution you hope for.</em>” She said, not unkindly but with no gentleness either. “<em>Your sins were not against me, but the Vessels that became part of me. If you seek forgiveness, then you must seek it from them.</em>” </p>
<p>“How-?” The Pale King asked breathlessly. “How can I right those wrongs when they are here, strewn about me in pieces?”</p>
<p>“<em>It is the will of the Vessel you call Little Ghost. My Heart. My Mind. My Focus. The creature who, through force of will, brought back my consciousness from the edges of my shattered psyche and became Me.</em>” The Obscurity replied. “<em>Ghost will accept your offer of a new shell and a new life, but only if you dedicate yourself to the task of giving the same opportunity to all of those around you who could still have that chance.</em>”</p>
<p>If it were possible, the light of the Pale King flickered. He turned his head to look back at the countless broken shells that littered the floors of the Abyss — hundreds into thousands of Vessels who never saw the world outside of their dark, hellish birthplace. He stared down at the shell in his arms. </p>
<p>“…I would gladly give it, but…this shell was created from pieces of myself and the Queen Root. There is not enough of either of us to create shells for every Vessel.” </p>
<p>“<em>Not every shell you see still belongs to a shade.</em>” The void goddess said sadly. “<em>The Vessels have discussed amongst themselves and decided that whatever shells remain unclaimed can be used to house the shades of those whose shells are too broken to fix. There is enough chitin here that, with careful planning, the Vessels that remain here in the dark should be able to become whole again</em>.” </p>
<p>“Then it shall be done.” The Pale King did not hesitate. </p>
<p>“<em>Very well.</em>” The Obscurity shifted and held out one massive hand to the King. He placed the shell against Her palm. She drew Her arm back and it vanished into void-dark lake. It churned and spluttered before She brought Her hand back up to the edge of the dock and a tiny Vessel stepped down onto the platform.</p>
<p>Little Ghost looked up at their sire and their sibling, whole and separate from the void goddess, their new shell perfect and almost gleaming in the dark. </p>
<p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Yours to Inherit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>The void was rising up, devouring the clouds that surrounded </em>
  <span class="pwa-mark decorator">
    <em>Godhome</em>
  </span>
  <em> and turning them to storm. Tendrils reached and thrashed within its depths, stretching to wrap around the fierce Moth Goddess of Light.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Ghost felt their entire body throb, felt the intense pressure inside their shell building until it could no longer contain the surging void. It cracked, fractured, then split, but they didn’t perish. Instead, She woke up. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The Obscurity set upon Her sister with a vicious ferocity, holding that fuzzy, deceptively strong body in Her massive fist as She savaged Her. The screaming was piercing, terror and pain and other emotions the Obscurity did not allow Herself to absorb. The bright blood of Essence and Light was erupting from the Radiance’s body, swallowed up in the blackness of the void. Long ago, the Light had won out, had cast the dark into the depths and almost caused Her to be forgotten, but this time the Void was stronger. This time the Light was submerged and smothered and destroyed. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“I will not forgive you.” The Obscurity said, staring down into Her sister’s face. The Radiance’s bright orange eyes were wide with tears and shock. In the same turn, large void-black tears were gushing from the many eyes of the forgotten Goddess. “I love you, Sister, but I will not forgive you and I will not allow you to plague this world any longer.” </em>
</p><hr/>
<p>It seemed that the Little Ghost needed a moment to get their bearings. They had been part of the whole for so long that having their own body again seemed confusing. They fluttered their wings and stretched their tiny limbs, their fingers exploring the planes of their new shell curiously. Once they were steady, they looked up at the two bugs before them.</p>
<p>Hollow let out a long, shaky exhale and dropped to their knees. They reached out and swept the tiny bug into their arms, bringing them in close for a firm embrace. Ghost seemed surprised but readily returned the affection, arms wrapped around Hollow’s neck. </p>
<p>“…<span class="pwa-mark decorator">th</span>-…thank you, Little Ghost…” Hollow’s voice was especially strained. “For e-everything. Everything.” </p>
<p>Ghost pulled back and placed both of their hands on Hollow’s cheeks. Their eyes met. Hollow had never seen Ghost face to face before and to suddenly be so close was a little overwhelming. There was nothing but adoration in Little Ghost’s gaze and when they pulled their hands back, they signed in the darkness between them.</p>
<p>“<em>It was your strength that allowed me the time to find a way to save you. Thank you for holding on as long as you could.</em>” </p>
<p>Hollow was the one to cup Ghost’s cheeks this time, bringing their foreheads together in an affectionate nuzzle. Despite the separation, the touch of their shells made them both feel as if they were one and the same bug. Hollow wondered if it was because every Vessel had a piece of the Obscurity inside of them or if it was because they and Ghost had hatched from the same egg. Perhaps it was both.</p>
<p>Once the Vessels were satisfied and could part, Little Ghost turned to face their sire. The Pale King stared down at them sadly, obviously at a loss for what to say. He fumbled for a moment but stopped when Ghost held up their hand, palm out. Then they moved forward and hugged their father around the middle, shocking the King into gasping audibly. For several moments he was frozen, unable to comprehend what was happening or why, but he finally wrapped his arms around his tiny child and held them tight.</p>
<p>“…you do not have to forgive me, Little Ghost…but know that I am sorry, for everything I have done, for the suffering you and your siblings have endured.”</p>
<p>“<em>There will be time for you to do right by us.</em>” Ghost signed when they finally pulled away. “<em>So long as you keep your promise, so long as you work to save those of us who still live, you will not need my forgiveness.</em>” </p>
<p>The three of them didn’t leave the Abyss until after the Little Ghost had assured several shy shades that they would be returning as soon as they could. The Pale King ascended with Hollow while Ghost was able to make the climb themself, their wings considerably matured and strong enough to carry them. They gleamed and flashed in a weak facsimile of their sire’s. </p>
<p>“Ghost!” Hornet’s voice rang out when they reached the platform that jutted out over the Abyss. They barely paused, trotting hurriedly through the yawning entrance towards their sister. Hornet met them halfway and the two of them embraced, hugging tightly. “Y-You’re in so much trouble, you know, up and vanishing like that. You had me worried sick.”</p>
<p>“Trouble! Sick!” Grimmchild mimicked, freeing himself from Hornet’s cloak to headbutt and nuzzle against Ghost’s shell. The moment Hornet released their sibling, he was ready to take her place, his wings buffeting against both bugs as he struggled to get close enough to nearly wrap himself around Ghost’s head. </p>
<p>Hornet looked up at Hollow after scrubbing her hand across her eyes,</p>
<p>“You did it…I’m so glad…”</p>
<p>Hollow dipped their head in agreement. The Pale King watched as Little Ghost attempted to pry Grimmchild off their face, a soft and sad affection in his expression.</p><hr/>
<p>The first step was setting up the workshop. </p>
<p>Hornet, who had spent enough time with the Maskmaker to know what kind of tools and how much space they were going to need, assisted Lurien and Monomon in the construction of the temporary storage and workstations. The <span class="pwa-mark decorator">Nailmasters</span> descended to help too once Hollow had returned to the surface with Little Ghost. The bugs of Dirtmouth had been overjoyed to see the little Vessel again, all of them with their own greetings. Hollow took Ghost to the home they’d been occupying and returned all of their items to them. </p>
<p>The news that the Pale King and the Dreamers were working on a large project below was the talk of the dreary little village. It was difficult for the two of them to explain everything that had happened and what was going to happen now, but after a struggle and many repetitions they managed…and the kind bugs of Dirtmouth responded with the charity that had driven Little Ghost to befriend each of them. The Vessels shouldn’t have been surprised that they offered whatever help they could but the sentiment moved both of them regardless.</p>
<p>Each had strengths they could offer, and with the ways down into the kingdom clear and safe, there was no reason for anyone who fear. Cornifer offered to take his wife down to the hot-springs and then meet the group down in the Ancient Basin if they could lend a hand. Sheo, Mato, and Oro offered their strength — though Sheo quickly diverted course to help with shaping shells alongside his partner, the diligent and dutiful Nailsmith. The Dreamers and the Pale Monarchs had not been expecting help from the few common bugs still left in Hallownest, but it was welcomed. More than welcomed.</p>
<p>The workstations consisted of long tables, racks of tools, stacks of plans written on stone and spider-silk parchment. A lift was constructed over the mouth of the Abyss, a less ornate version of the elevators that dotted the City of Tears that carried bins down to be filled with the shells that carpeted the floor of the Abyss. Hollow, Ghost, and the Pale King descended time and time again, hauling the tons and tons of chitin up into the safety of the Ancient Basin. There, the shells were sorted into piles that delineated how much work they would need to be whole again. With very careful calculations, Lurien and Monomon plotted how much chitin was needed for each shell and, starting with the most broken, they began the process of reconstruction. </p>
<p>It was an all hands on deck kind of task. It took weeks just to empty the Abyss of the broken Vessel shells, and the time it would take to shape them back into something suitable was indeterminate. But the Pale King was true to his word. He was the first to start working and the last to stop, shaping shells, repairing cracks, taking the lift again and again, making sure not a single piece of chitin was left behind. Ghost seemed satisfied with both their sire’s work and the progress being made. They were never far away from the operation. </p>
<p>With the help of Confessor Jiji, Ghost identified the shells that still had living shades and made sure to have them put aside so that the proper shades could be given back their own shells. The ones with no claim were left blank of any markings that made it obvious who the shell belonged to. </p>
<p>Hollow was watching the Pale King and Spider Queen Herrah work to piece together a particularly scattered shell when Little Ghost pattered up to them and took a seat at their side. They looked a funny picture — Hollow, tall and thin and cracked, Ghost, small and pudgy and pristine. </p>
<p>“<em>We could repair your shell too, dear sibling.</em>” Ghost signed, peering up at them curiously.</p>
<p>Hollow reached up and felt along the crack. It had become almost a nervous tick to slide their fingertips along the sharp, clean edge of the shatter. They grimaced a little as they dropped their hand to sign back.</p>
<p>“<em>…I don’t know. It is part of me now. To repair it would feel like denying what has happened to me. For now, at least, I think I’ll keep it.</em>” </p>
<p>“<em>So long as it does not cause you pain.</em>” Ghost replied, then reaching out to pat Hollow’s arm. Again, the touch caused the strange sensation — that feeling that there was no boundary of carapace between them and that they were just a single entity. It didn’t seem to bother Ghost at all even though it sent Hollow reeling a little. Watching Hollow blink and shake themself, Little Ghost made an apologetic gesture with their hands.</p>
<p>“<em>Sorry. I forget that will happen</em>.”</p>
<p>“<em>Why-? What is it?</em>” Hollow asked.</p>
<p>“<em>Just a connection,</em>” Ghost paused in their signing to think. “<em>…I showed you, how we hatched from the same egg, that it was just coincidence that our situations are as they are. It could have been reversed so easily. You and I, we’re like two sides of a geo. Our egg was the first that dropped into the Birthplace, the first that the void took. We were the only survivors of that hatching, and we carried more of the Obscurity inside us than the other Vessels. If the others had survived…I don’t know. It’s possible they would have been like us, too</em>.” </p>
<p>“<em>So it is the Void Goddess that makes us feel as one?</em>” </p>
<p>“<em>In a way. She doesn’t exist as Her own Self anymore, only as a sort of…overarching consciousness that contains all of Us. She was barely more than a thought when I found Her and…became Her, I guess</em>.” Ghost shrugged, their wing buzzing with their uncertainty. “<em>Don’t worry. We’re not going to accidentally join into one bug.</em>”</p>
<p>“<em>That’s a relief. I think Hornet would lose her mind if something happened to either of us now</em>.” </p>
<p>The two Vessels shared their own silent laughter. </p><hr/>
<p>Months ticked by, full of relentless work, but the day finally came that there was no more chitin to work with and no more shells to create.</p>
<p>Ghost had been keeping count and was satisfied with the results even though there was still heartbreak in the number. The shells numbered in the hundreds, but thousands of Vessels had been hatched into the Abyss. Not even half had survived the fall, the hatching, the corruption of the void. Despite the wishes, there was nothing they could further do.</p>
<p>The lift went back into overdrive, lowering crates full of tightly packed shells back down into the depths. Once again, Hollow and Ghost worked alongside their sire to unpack the crates and lay them out so that they could be easily filled with the shade that claimed them. It took hours just to accomplish that task, and when the final batch of shells was finally spread out, the party allowed their exhaustion to take them.</p>
<p>For a single night, everyone returned to the White Palace and took some well deserved rest.</p>
<p>The following morning, Ghost and Hollow took the lift down into the Abyss for the final time. The Pale King had decided to stay behind to let the Vessels greet their siblings without his interference. It was obvious that he was incredibly nervous even if he was doing his best not to show it. </p>
<p>Ghost returned to the void lake, letting the impenetrable dark take them into itself again. After a moment they were no longer separate, but part of that great whole once again, and Hollow watched the Obscurity rise from the surface of the lake. She peered down at them with an openness in Her expression that they hadn’t seen before. She leaned down to them slowly and Hollow understood Her intention, meeting Her halfway with a tilt of their head. Their forehead gently bumped against Hers.</p>
<p>“<em>…it is time.</em>” She said softly. “<em>Once I become Little Ghost and the Vessels, I will cease to exist like this. My many pieces will become Them, and as They become Them, They will stop being Me. It is the way of it…and it is what they deserve, to be free and have their own choices</em>.”</p>
<p>Hollow reached up, placing both of their hands on the Goddess’s wide brow. Though made of Void, Her shell was warm and almost soft. Deep beneath all that blackness was Her affection for them, for all the Vessels, a gratitude that was difficult to comprehend. She was too ancient for any bug currently alive to understand. </p>
<p>“<em>Do not grieve for me, Hollow. Through you and your siblings, I will live on. Even if I am gone. I just ask that you do not forget me, or my troubled Sister. Our story is tragic and has caused much pain to the common bug, but we were family once, we shared love. I think it will be fitting for me to follow Her into a nonexistence. Perhaps, if there is a place beyond here, beyond the Dreams, we will meet there and start anew.</em>” </p>
<p>“I w-will…remember…I promise.” </p>
<p>“<em>Cherish your new Hallownest and your unplagued Dreams, Hollow, Freed Vessel, Knight of Hallownest, born of Root and Wyrm and Void. Goodbye.</em>” </p>
<p>The Obscurity pulled back from them and let out a long, shuddering breath. The void began to pulse, pull, separate — tendrils whipping past Hollow to seek out the shells that had been placed on the ground. Once by one, the void filled the pale shells, and with each body that formed the Obscurity became smaller, smaller, and smaller until finally the void coalesced into the tiny form of Little Ghost, the Heart and Mind and Focus of the Void Goddess who could finally be at peace. </p><hr/>
<p>It was chaos but it was filled with joy. </p>
<p>Hollow had a time of it, herding dozens of Vessels at a time into the lift where they crowded and bumped into each other and flailed their tiny limbs to get used to having bodies. It took several trips, Ghost staying below as Hollow ferried the Vessels up and out of the Abyss, carried effortlessly up the climb they had all failed to complete ages ago.</p>
<p>The Pale King and the White Lady were overwhelmed very quickly. Though it was obvious that some Vessels harbored ill will, many of them readily embraced their parents and each other. They had known much cruelty but it wasn’t in them to pass that cruelty along. Though the shared consciousness they had all been linked to was slowly fading, they all knew enough through Ghost and Hollow to understand who everyone was and what lengths reached to bring them all to the surface.</p>
<p>Hornet was overwhelmed too. Suddenly her role as the eldest had expanded many times over and, as she attempted to keep Grimmchild from dive-bombing every Vessel that looked similar to Ghost, she found herself surrounded by her younger siblings who were happy to meet her. The affection that Ghost and Hollow held for her had bled over and Hornet gave and got more hugs in that moment than she had in her entire life. </p>
<p>An entire wing of the White Palace was quickly prepared for the sudden influx of tiny Vessels. It would take time, but it was obvious that the Pale Monarchs wanted to know each and every one of their children, wanted to rebuild bridges. Though they both displayed some amount of sadness and guilt, that was outshined by their desire to get it right the second time. They had been given a chance. They weren’t going to waste it.</p><hr/>
<p>The void lake was empty. Nothing but barren rock remained. The air of the Abyss was no longer thick or heavy with darkness. The Abyss had been well and truly emptied and as Little Ghost stood on the dock overlooking nothing, they pondered silently about how everything was going to move forward now. They had done much to achieve this outcome but now that it was here, they felt lost. </p>
<p>It was time to make a new life.</p>
<p>Sudden light cast over them and Ghost turned to see their sire gently landing on the dusty floor, folding his luminous wings neatly. It wasn’t nearly so dark anymore but after the brightness, it seemed that way.</p>
<p>“…Hollow said you’d be down here.” The Pale King said quietly, coming to stand by their side. He looked out over the empty basin as well. “So She really is gone then. Part of all of you.”</p>
<p>Ghost nodded.</p>
<p>“…Little Ghost, I-…you did everything that I could not.” The King sighed deeply. “Even though my plan failed, you found a way to make everything right. Hallownest may truly be able to last eternal. I am forever in your debt, in Hollow’s debt, in Hornet’s debt.” </p>
<p>Silence stretched between them. It was a comfortable silence despite the things that needed to be said but neither had the words. It was going to be a long road ahead but they were both committed and, in the end, that’s what truly mattered. </p>
<p>The Pale King reached out a hand and placed it gently between Ghost’s horns. The touch was accepted and the Vessel turned their head to look up at their sire. The Pale Wyrm smiled weakly and his voice was incredibly soft and full of gratitude.</p>
<p>“…Hallownest is yours to inherit, my child.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>That feel when the fic is named after the scene at the very end lol</p>
<p>You ever tried to put hundreds of toddlers into an elevator? It goes about as well as you'd expect. </p>
<p>This is the final chapter, though there will be an epilogue, which is why there's technically eleven chapters total. I'll be posting that in a few days!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Epilogue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Who's ready for way too much fluff at the very end?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rebuilding a kingdom was not a task that could be completed in a day. </p>
<p>Though time passed strangely within the borders of Hallownest, it took many years for the kingdom to flourish again. It was a slow trickle of travelers at first, bugs who came and saw and then took the stories out into the world that the old kingdom was coming back to life. Those stories brough more curious bugs from the wastes. Some stayed, some didn’t, but eventually the number of bugs that started to make Hallownest home again made the City of Tears feel almost like it once had. </p>
<p>Lurien worked tirelessly to restore the capitol’s infrastructure. Much of it had suffered after years of being pelted by rain that it had never been built to withstand. Over time, a team of bugs who either had experience or proved to be dedicated to learn the craft joined him in his efforts — quite a few Vessels among them, too. It wasn’t feasible to repair the ceiling of the cavern, especially since any damage could possibly result in wider cracks and the entirety of the Blue Lake pouring down into the city at once. Instead, the plan was to create a second ceiling of greens that would guide the water down — using semi-aquatic foliage meant there would be less worry of eroding away metals or stones and it was a more sightly upgrade too. While the rain would never fully be stopped, the City of Tears would be misted with a drizzle rather than a continuous downpour. </p>
<p>Monomon returned to her archives with Quirrel, her never-ending quest for knowledge continuing. This time, though, she had many more assistants in the form of Vessels who wanted to know everything they could about the world they were now getting to experience. The archives had never been so lively but Monomon delighted in her duties, teaching any Vessel who asked her everything that they could ever want to know. Her role as Teacher made her happy and to have so many enthusiastic students filled her heart to bursting.</p>
<p>Herrah returned to Deepnest. Hornet accompanied her, and together they drew up the plans to restore the spider’s nest to its previous glory. They discovered Midwife’s hiding place and, after a tearful and mirthful reunion, Hornet counseled her to control her appetite around all the Vessels that would undoubtedly make their home in the Distant Village. It was less of a problem than either Herrah or Hornet thought it would be — Midwife immediately considered all the Vessels to be the equivalent of a new brood, part of the future of a new Deepnest. Silly as it seemed at first, it worked out — more than one Vessel had it in their head that because Herrah was mother to Hornet, she was essentially a second mother to all of them. Herrah seemed somewhere between endeared and frustrated by that fact, constantly juggling the tiny bugs around her work as Queen, passing them off to Midwife or Hornet when their tiny hands and endless questions came to be too much for her. </p>
<p>When she wasn’t assisting her mother, Hornet spent her time with the Vessels who wanted to learn how to be Knights. Alongside Mato and under the occasional “disinterested” gaze of Sly, she started a training program that would teach the little bugs how to defend themselves and their kingdom. Nailsmith was kind enough to return to his old craft for a time, forging nails for the numbers and eventually accidentally ending up with a handful of apprentices. </p>
<p>Sheo was right alongside him, still wielding his paintbrush and creating new canvases. His latest work included many of the Vessels, the new lifeblood of the once dead Kingdom of Hallownest — featured doing innate and even outright boring tasks, their shiny white shells stark against darker backgrounds, their smallness exaggerated for impact. One painting cast the three “eldest” siblings in contrast with each other — the tall, imposing Hollow, Hornet dressed in red, and Little Ghost with their pinkish glow and slightly oversized wings. </p>
<p>Hollow featured in Sheo’s paintings quite a bit, mostly because Hollow had ended up spending a lot of time with the <span class="pwa-mark decorator">Paintmaster</span> and his partner. They had gone to Nailsmith for assistance in building a new prosthetic — one of their younger siblings had accidentally freed the one Ghost had created for them and the void construct had disintegrated once it had no anchor. After they had soothed the panicked little Vessel, Ghost had asked Nailsmith to consider trying out a project that was between his old craft and new passions. The result was an arm constructed of pale ore and iron, able to be manipulated by Soul, easily anchored to and removed from Hollow’s shoulder. In one painting of Sheo’s, Hollow sat motionless against a backdrop of delicate flowers, their prosthetic arm gleaming brightly against their void-black carapace. </p>
<p>In addition, Hollow had put down their nail to follow Sheo’s example. After everything, they didn’t feel much like a knight anymore and found no more joy in continuing to wield their weapon. While they appreciated the skills they had acquired over time, it was time to do something new. More often than not, they were joined by a Vessel with a particularly damaged shell, one who had arrived from the far reaches of the Ancient Basin a few days after the Obscurity had dispersed. Ghost had met them with tears, embraced them tightly, touched along the severity of their break. The two had held each other and cried for some time before being able to explain their last meeting, where the lost kin had been animated by the Infection and fallen in battle. After that, the broken Vessel had no desire to wield a nail, and spent their time quietly making tiny figures out of clay and mixing pigments into paints. </p>
<p>With the Dream Plague vanished, the interference between the voices of the other Higher Beings that had made Hallownest their home seemed to have vanished too. Slowly but surely, <span class="pwa-mark decorator">Greenpath</span> emptied as the <span class="pwa-mark decorator">Mosskin</span> returned to the Dream of their Mother, the great slug Unn who still slept peacefully at the edge of the realm. The White Lady took charge of the region and, alongside the Queen’s Gardens, the foliage and flora was cared for and tended to, coaxed back from the neglected wildness, and Unn’s temple was refurnished to ensure the Green Mother’s dream would continue to sprout in the tunnels of Hallownest. She had many of her children there to help her, Vessels who took interest in the nature of the Root or who just found the gardens to be a pleasant place to stay. The White Lady was flourishing more than she ever had, her crown of roots flowering with her happiness as she got to do what she had always wanted to but had given up on: mothering her children.</p>
<p>The Pale King was much the same. It was obvious that he’d long since given up on the idea that he could ever be the father he wanted and needed to be. Even though he’d had Hornet to look after, he’d ultimately failed in that responsibility, but he was making up for any lost time. In between his efforts to restructure his Hallownest, he spent time with his Queen and his children, busy helping them choose names and discover things about the world. The Vessels made him a better father and a better king. </p>
<p>The King made contact with the Hive and the Mantis Lords. The Hive was busy raising a new Queen and were content to stay mostly separated from the whole of Hallownest — the Mantis Lords were amiable to a restructuring of their previous treaty. It included more mutual trade and promises not to cross or violate borders. Little Ghost assisted in that regard, having bested the Three Sisters in combat, earned their respect, and learned more about their ways. For the most part they would be left alone to continue their unshakeable society, but as part of Hallownest they would have access to aid if they ever needed it. On top of that, some of the more dedicated of Mato and Hornet’s teachings would be allowed to descend into the village to further their training if they had approval from Ghost. </p>
<p>Hallownest slowly grew back into its glory, but it was different this time than the first. Though it was in his nature to create, to make himself a beacon, to desire to be worshipped, the Pale King rejected that part of himself to make a better leader. His first duty was now to his children, and it was clear that the revival of Hallownest was for their benefit first. He wanted them to thrive after so long in the dark. And they did. Given agency, given the opportunity, the Vessels that had once been broken shells and incomplete shades grew into tenacious, curious, and industrious little bugs who practically burst with personality. Given a chance, they strove to live their lives to the fullest extent they could imagine. It was everything that all involved could have hoped for.</p><hr/>
<p>A drop of rain struck the top of their shell and followed the crack down between their eyes. Hollow lifted a hand and flicked it away. Below them was the spread of Hallownest’s capitol, still named the City of Tears despite its namesake being severely lessened, all gleaming metal and quiet blue light. It was a beautiful sight, though they imagined it must look even better from atop the Watcher’s Spire. No matter. They wanted to be able to feel the rain just a little.</p>
<p>Everything seemed a little surreal. Ethereal, even. From their perch they could see the comings and goings of the populace — bugs from the wastes, bugs that had made Hallownest their home, dozens of Vessels, all of them busy with their lives. The city didn’t seem so large when it wasn’t completely empty and they were grateful for that. It had been a joy to see their home grow back into what it had once been, even if it wasn’t exactly the same, even if it would never be the same as it had been when they were freshly hatched. </p>
<p>Hollow took a deep breath. The cavern smelled like earth and water and cold. Along with the cool, damp air it was incredibly refreshing even if the chill was creeping into their shoulder from the touch of their prosthetic, or if the water kept dripping against the crack in their shell. The discomfort was minimal and it was proof that they were alive. Proof that everything was real.</p>
<p>“Hey, you,” Hornet’s voice rang out behind them and Hollow turned to look, lifting a hand to wave at her and Little Ghost, who was following close behind. “If you don’t come down to the Palace soon, you’ll miss the Knighting Ceremony. <span class="pwa-mark decorator">Jix</span>, <span class="pwa-mark decorator">Cudzu</span>, and Zeta will never forgive you if you aren’t there~”</p>
<p>“Would not miss.” Hollow assured her with a smile, heaving themself to their feet. “Proud of them.”</p>
<p>“They’ve worked hard for their crests,” Hornet agreed, her hand resting with a comfortable familiarity between Ghost’s horns. Though Ghost had grown over the years, it was becoming obvious that Hollow’s height was unnatural. They would likely surpass Hornet eventually but Hollow would always be almost uncomfortably tall. “But you were the first Knight among the Vessels and they all look up to you.” </p>
<p>“<em>You’re basically a Knight yourself.</em>” Ghost signed to her with a little flourish.</p>
<p>“I don’t want or need the official title, okay.” Hornet replied. “I think I have enough. It already takes a crier ten minutes to read out my name in an announcement. Princess Hornet, Daughter of Deepnest, Protector of Hallownest, Sister to the — it just goes on and on. Would it kill father to tell them to just say ‘Hornet’?”</p>
<p>“<em>He’s too proud of all of your accomplishments to let anyone forget.</em>” </p>
<p>Hornet groaned and the two Vessels laughed, one with voice and one without.</p>
<p>“Let’s go.” Hollow said finally, smothering their mirth in their hand. “Not be late.”</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>That's it! This little project of mine is now finished. Thank you to everyone who read and commented and gave kudos! I hope everyone enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I hope that this is a satisfying ending -- cos it is for me!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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